


Digimon 222: Dark Masquerade

by Ice is Blue (ice_is_blue)



Category: Digimon
Genre: Alternate Reality, Multi, Post-Apocalyptic, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2003-01-01
Updated: 2008-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-02 03:20:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 126,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ice_is_blue/pseuds/Ice%20is%20Blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Yamato is betrayed and sold as a slave to the wealthy (and supposedly cruel) Lord Yagami, can they learn to trust each other in time to save the world? Darker Alternate Reality where Myotismon is undefeated 200 years later. Warnings for extreme WiP-ness and molasses-slow updates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dark Masque

#### Foreword

I've written my concluding thoughts to this story already.

All that's left for me is to write this introduction. For some reason, I've saved it for last.

It might be because I don't think I'll ever be able to put down in words what it's been like to live my life,

To live in a world consumed by corruption, despoiled by pollution, and bound by slavery.

I know that this history will be read... maybe even centuries from now.

And while I hope this old way of life, these concepts, are foreign to the reader, it makes my job harder.

There's no easy way to prepare you for the world you are about to encounter.

There is death, there is sex for the wrong reasons, there is betrayal, violence, and foul language.

And throughout the happy, the fun, the silly, the sweet times, people are also very, very sad.

If you are brave, the only thing you can do is read.

Read and listen with your heart.

_Read and learn._

~

My hair is turning white.

It's a little early yet, but it's understandable considering the stress I've been through.

Still, I'm getting to be an old man. I never thought I'd live to see this day.

You can find out in most history books that the Old Era ended on December 22, 2002.

As children, you have memorized that the Dark Age ended on December 22, Year 222 of the New Era.

But people still do not know the story of how the world was changed.

They don't know our story.

They don't know my story.

_You don't know your own story._

~

Flash back to January 1st, Year 223 of the New Era.

Everyone wants to hear how we twelve 'saved the world.'

They ask us what having a digimon partner is like.

They ask us if the 'mutants' are really safe.

They ask us if the children will stop dying.

But most often we are asked about our battles with Myotismon.

They ask us about the flashy part of the story -- the simple side.

Myotismon -- the big bad monster wrapped in a human husk.

After first being shocked that Lord Otis was anything other than a powerful Lord,

A wealthy scientist with the secret nano-technology miracle of eternal life;

People, who had heard about it from friends of friends, wondered how we ever defeated him.

As if our digimon partners had nothing to do with it.

People think our story is of battling Myotismon.

_Really, we were fighting ourselves._

~

Now, twenty-five years later, our lives have settled as much as they ever will or can.

Eventually, one-by-one, I got them to tell me their side of the story.

And it's written here, so that everyone can know the truth... or at least as close to it as I can come.

I've had to recreate what I don't know, what they don't know.

I've had to recreate what they couldn't tell me, what they wouldn't tell me.

And then I've had to take all the puzzle pieces of memory and fit them together.

I offer these words to you, wondering still, what would have happened if I never ran into him.

_I can only offer these words, and hope that you give them meaning._

~

************************************

 

### Chapter 1: The Dark Masque

Click. Click. Click. The exotic high-heeled boots that Yamato was wearing to the masque echoed along the metallic black surface of the corridor. The few servants and slaves not yet finished with their tasks rushed to move out of his way as he approached. A short boy with dun-colored hair stumbled in his haste, spilling his tray of food right in front of Yamato. The wealthy blond slowed his pace, then finally stopped when his path was blocked by the slave. Common custom dictated that it would be undignified for him to alter his course for a mere slave. He looked down. The boy, Iori, as the tag about his neck read, still had not lifted so much as a finger.

Yamato was becoming impatient. The masque was starting soon and it would be equally undignified for him to be seen walking with any pace faster than a leisurely stroll.

"Move," he ordered with a growl in his voice.

The trembling lump of body shook harder and clutched its arms tighter about its head while pulling its legs up closer to shield its stomach.

_He expects me to kick him out of the way,_ Yamato realized. _Well, sorry to disappoint, but I'm not my father or the people like him._

"Look at me," he ordered. His tone was in no way gentle, but it lacked the biting, casual hatred other Lords used. The slave slowly unsquinched his eyelids and stared up at him with deep green orbs. "Why haven't you moved out of my way?" Yamato questioned.

The slave opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"Answer me, I grow impatient."

"P-please, Lord. I'm s-sorry," the boy finally squeaked. "B-but I just c-can't!"

_Weak with hunger... probably why he tripped in the first place._ Yamato suppressed the urge to sigh, focusing instead on keeping his mask of faint disdain intact. He quickly checked to make sure that they were alone, then spoke, "Remember this moment, remember my face, and remember that I am called Yamato."

The boy, olive eyes widening in terror, no doubt recognized the name as belonging to High Lord Masaharu's son. He appeared unable to move, capable only of staring.

Yamato stepped over the curled body and began walking away, getting just the barest hint of satisfaction from the sound of a quiet gasp behind him. "Clean this mess up then go down to the kitchens," he ordered over his shoulder. "See to it that you get a decent meal. If they deny you food, tell them that it is on my command."

"Yes, Lord Yamato."

Yamato nodded in acknowledgment then assumed the quickest acceptable pace and continued down the corridor. With luck, he would arrive at the masque with still a few minutes to spare.

***

Luck was not with Yamato.

According to his chronometer, the masque had officially started ten minutes ago and as heir to the hosting Lord, Yamato should have been there. He slowed to a halt, his breath heaving more from anticipation than from exertion. The guarded doors to the ballroom lay just around the corner, but as he was already tardy, Yamato took a few precious moments to steady himself and to check his appearance.

With gentle coaxing from his fingertips, Yamato's hair returned to its original state. And while the tightly-cut shirt and pants that he wore were serviceable after a quick brushing down to remove whatever particles they'd collected from his accident, there was nothing much he could do about the bruise forming on his right forearm where he'd taken the force of the fall. But he shrugged away the pain, figuring that it would be unnoticeable under his long sleeves. It would be easy to avoid touches there, anyway.

Yamato saved the inspection of his boots (and the glare he owed them) for last. After parting with the petrified slave, Yamato had made good time, even managing a run down the few empty corridors. Things were looking up, until his spike heel had caught in some metal grating. Of course the accident had happened while he was running in one of the deserted corridors, so he'd had to deal with the situation on his own. Yamato had spent precious minutes undoing the wild assortment of ties, buckles, and zippers holding the boot to his foot, then he spent several more frustrating moments trying to remove the boot from the grate.

Despite the trouble they undoubtedly were and even though they were sometimes difficult to walk in, they served him well, enhancing the sultry appearance he had cultivated for the special party tonight. Not only did their height accentuate and call attention to his slenderly muscled legs, they were also a weapon. The boots had complex fastening of many kinds and in that tangle there was a switch that exposed the spike-like blade set into the heel. A different switch would coat the blade with an extremely potent sedative that worked almost instantly. Stepping through the doors to the masqued ball would be easier knowing he had the boots and their concealed weapons with him.

In another, more perfect, world, the idea of such boots would be ridiculous, but for Yamato, they were a necessary and secret precaution. In these times, it was dangerous to be beautiful. Yamato, with his finely-spun golden hair and eyes the unusual color of sapphires, had to be very careful. Beautiful things were used until they were spoiled, then thrown away. It happened over and over again in his society  the land, the plants and animals, the people  all were raped of their value and discarded.

Although Yamato desperately wished in the depths of his heart that things were different, it was a cruel fact of the world that those with power and money could do as they desired, answering only to those more powerful. With his stunning good looks, it was all he could do to not present himself as a target, as a victim. No, Yamato had learned early on not to present himself as a weak Lord. Instead, he grew a persona to wear, one that was distant, cold, and cruel.

As his duties to his father increased, the more he had to keep the mask on his true emotions in place. When he was younger, it had been easier. He got to spend the majority of his day with his nurses and tutors. But as he got older, his father had expected him to be at his side, learning from him how a Lord should act. And the persona was kept in place for longer and longer periods of time. Over the years, an eventual blending occurred and some days, Yamato wasn't sure which was the persona and which was his true self: the cruel mask or the caring one.

To be completely honest with himself, if the incident with the slave had happened when Yamato was in a bad mood, the persona might not have disappeared. He would have kicked the boy out of his way. _But the mask did drop and you didn't kick the boy,_ he reminded himself sternly. _While your father is still the High Lord, this is the way things must be. And right now, the place you need to be is at that party, wearing your 'party' mask._

Effortlessly, Yamato's face lost all emotions, save boredom, and his eyes grew haughty and disdainful. "Eat 'em alive, or they eat you," he whispered to himself. Then he stepped around the corner.

***

His father, High Lord Masaharu, stood against the wall at the very back of the wide platform that raised the two dinner tables of the High Lords and their heirs. Larger tables were arranged in a semicircle around the pit-like stage set into the floor. Lords milled around, socializing and waiting for the dinner signal. It was an important gathering with nearly five dozen lesser Lords in attendance. On the floor below, Yamato could easily spot the High Lords and their heirs as they meandered through a crowd that parted immediately for their path.

High Lord Motomiya and his two annoying offspring, Lady Jun and Lord Daisuke were present, as was High Lord Kidou and his youngest son, the sniveling Lord Jyou. The High Lord's two elder sons, Lords Shin and Shuu, appeared to be absent. Also missing was High Lord Takenouchi. But her daughter, Sora, who had also won the honor of the title of 'Lord,' was present and, as suggested by the arrangement of chairs around the raised tables, she would be sitting in her mother's place.

Yamato finally admitted to himself that the boots were overkill. The only man he was really worried about starting a fight was High Lord Yagami, but the masked sadist wasn't anywhere in sight. And it wasn't like his father could start anything with so many lesser Lords around. For the moment, he was safe.

The masque differed from a party in that the attendees were allowed to wear disguises or simple masks. Technically, for it to be called a true masquerade, the costumes would be required... but nobody was of a mind to be picky about such matters. He supposed it would have been possible to dress the slaves up in costumes, but there really wasn't much point in that either.

In fact, among the High Lords and their heirs, only Lord Yagami continued to don a mask, but everyone suspected that was more because of his accident than out of any desire for anonymity. Lord Yagami, Yamato noted with relief, was still not in attendance. His father caught his eye and beckoned to him. Unable to delay the inevitable any further, Yamato approached his father with caution.

"The guests have all arrived. You're late, my son," Masaharu announced quietly as Yamato drew near.

Something was up. His father almost seemed pleased that he was late. The man's expression held none of the annoyance that usually affected his features when dealing with Yamato.

"I'm sorry, I was delayed."

"What happened?" he queried.

Yamato phrased his answer very carefully. He couldn't stretch the truth too much, or his father would know. The man always seemed to be able to find out what Yamato had done (or not done), even though there were no witnesses. But he had to lie a little  he couldn't let his father know that he'd been kind to a slave again. _Maybe if I tell him..._

"A slave spilled his tray on my boots," he said. "But I dealt with it and punished the slave myself while I waited for another pair to be brought. I apologize for the delay in my arrival, but it is a small occurrence and you need not concern yourself with the matter further."

His father's smile dimmed a fraction but still remained. "I am the Lord of this fortress, Yamato, and I shall concern myself with whatever I wish. Is that understood?"

Yamato gulped. _Maybe that last comment was a bit too much. I shouldn't have pushed him. Where's my head tonight?_ he wondered. "Understood," he said aloud.

Father and son regarded each other silently. With Yamato's submission, Masaharu's good mood seemed to have returned and it was making the blond all the more uncomfortable. Heavy footsteps broke the silence.

"Excuse me for intruding on your discussion with your son, Masaharu,"

Yamato watched as his father's eyes first widened in surprise then narrowed in anger at the sight of the tall man wearing a sculpted metal mask that covered his entire face and head. The metal was dark grey, like the rest of his clothing, except for the black and glittering substance covering the eyes. Yamato wasn't sure how the man inside could see or hear, but he supposed there were sensors or cameras hooked up, for there was no hesitation in his movement or speech.

"Lord Yagami," Masaharu acknowledged with neutrality.

"My invitation to this little gathering seems to have been misdirected somewhere. What luck that I just happened to be passing through the area and noticed all the other High Lords arriving."

"What luck, indeed," Masaharu replied in a tone that clearly stated the opposite. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I was just about to call everyone to take their places for dinner." He walked off and began directing everyone to their tables.

Still distracted by his father's odd behavior, Yamato watched him go with a dark glare until Yagami's synthesized voice intruded.

"You've grown. Soon you'll be strong enough to go against your father and become the High Lord of this fortress."

Yamato snorted. "What, and provide a distraction so you can come in and take control? My father and I work together, end of story," he said, even though the words rang false in his ears.

"All right then," the High Lord said smoothly, "since you work together, you must know why I didn't receive my invitation to tonight's entertainment."

He knew why: Through his bidding habits, Yagami made whatever event he attended all the more costly. But Yamato didn't dare say this. It was true that he hated the man, but all the same, he didn't dare offend him. "It was truly an honest mistake. The slave responsible will be sought out and punished accordingly."

The Lord nodded, dropping the matter, then gave a small chuckle. "The clash between father and son grows as you grow. What were you two fighting over this time?" he asked.

Blue eyes flashed in annoyance at the elder's tone. _Listen to this, prick! I can be just as blood-thirsty as you._ He molded his face into an arrogant expression, then said haughtily, "It was over my punishment of a slave. For some reason, my father found my methods too severe. Perhaps I _should_ overthrow him and you could guide my training in your areas of expertise."

"I work alone," Yagami said, straightening. "Besides, I have no desire to train a rival. I like my power and I intend to keep it." He caught up Yamato's right forearm in a strong grip and the blond had to struggle not to cry out at the pressure on his bruises. It was the handshake of two High Lords, of equals. "But I do wish you luck. We need strong men to lead the world. I hope that you will be one of them."

Thoroughly confused and distracted by the pain in his arm, Yamato nodded and he was released. Yagami stood there for a moment and Yamato cursed the black reflective covering over the Lord's eyes. It was a tool of power. The mask made it impossible to tell what its wearer was thinking or feeling and Yamato suspected that Yagami liked it that way. They remained there watching each other for several seconds, then the man turned on his heel and strode to his seat at the table with the other High Lords.

Yamato shuddered and found himself wishing that the man had died in the same accident that had killed his son. Shakily, he took his place at the table set for four, with Lord Jyou on his right, Lord Daisuke on his left, and Lady Jun, with her large smile, sat across from him.

***

"So," Lady Jun said perkily once the food was served, putting an end to the small talk. "Why did you come in late?"

"Something got spilled on my boots and I had to go back to my room to change," he said, hoping she would accept the excuse.

"Yamato, Yamato, Yamato," she chided. "Remember who you're talking to. It's me, _Jun_, the one who can always tell when you're ly~ing," she said in an annoying sing-song voice. "Now tell me, what's the real reason you were late?"

Yamato considered appealing to Daisuke for help, but it was clear from his expression that the young Lord was just as interested as his sister.

Forcing himself not to scowl, Yamato answered her truthfully. "I had some difficulty with a slave."

"Interesting," she commented. "What was his name?"

Yamato rolled his eyes. "Shingo."

"Nope." She wagged her finger. "Try another."

"Fine," he spat. "It was Keirou."

"Try again," Jun said smiling.

"Look, I don't know!"

"Yamato, darling, even you should know that particular line would be more believable had you not given me two other names before trying it. You obviously don't want to tell me his name, and since you didn't tell me straight out that you don't know it at all, you must know exactly who he is." She looked at him with a wicked grin. "Maybe the slave's your lover and you just want to protect his identity. You do seem like the type to do that. Although," she tsked, "shame on you for having sex with a slave right before a dinner party. Even Lord Jyou, here, knows enough to leave his special pet at home when attending one of these masques."

"It's nothing like that," Yamato snarled quietly.

"Um, Lady Jun, excuse me for intruding in the conversation, but perhaps it would be best if you let the matter drop," Lord Jyou commented, his face a gentle shade of crimson.

"Um, excuse me, Lady Jun," she mimicked, "but perhaps it would be best if you let the matter drop." Jun made a face. "It's a wonder your father still keeps you around. If you had at least an ounce of sense that your two gorgeous older brothers have..." She gave up, exasperated. The man was already cringing too hard to hear her. "Just butt out!" she snapped at him.

Jyou gulped and stared at his dinner plate meekly. Jun smiled sweetly.

"Now, Yamato, the easy way out of this would be to tell me his name. I promise to drop the matter entirely, if you just give me that piece of information. Or, I could just keep nagging you about it the entire night. But then your father might get suspicious... you obviously didn't tell him about this, did you?"

Fighting to keep his face from growing pale, Yamato looked at her skeptically. "You promise? I tell you, and that's it?"

She traced an 'X' over her heart and kissed the air. "I promise."

His father's head was turned in the opposite direction, completely engrossed in a conversation about High Lord Otis' newest orders and the criminal who was calling himself 'the Kaizer.' No one from the older Lords' table was paying him any attention. Everyone else was too far away. Lady Jun was waiting, smiling, completely ready to make a fuss that would put him in even more trouble than he was in already. Did he really have a choice?

In defeat, Yamato leaned forward until his face was almost pressed into the arrangement of almost-extinct flowers that served as the table's centerpiece. Jun also leaned her head in closer. "Iori," he said in a growled whisper.

Jun beamed. "That's all I wanted to know."

Sitting back with a sigh, Yamato asked, "Why did you want to know in the first place?"

She shrugged. "It's special information, something that only you and I know, and it might come in handy later. I never forget a name, you know," she boasted. "Besides, it's so much fun wringing the truth out of you," she giggled. "And..." she trailed off mischievously, "Now I can tease you about your new lover!"

Before Yamato could respond with something that would only be inappropriate for their setting, Daisuke butted in. "You know, Sis, I found your little game as amusing as you did," he said cracking a grin. "You got 'the stone-man' to speak. Great job. But, you did promise you'd drop it. And besides," his eyes lit with a glee that only occurred when he was about to talk about sports, "whatever affair Yamato's having isn't nearly as interesting as the tournament we were in last weekend. My team totally massacred!"

Jun glared at her brother then returned her attention to her dinner with a pout. Luckily for Yamato, the boy's mouth produced sound for the rest of dinner. Apparently, even Lady Jun couldn't get him to shut up once he started talking about soccer.

***

With his head carefully turned in the opposite direction, Masaharu smiled. It seemed his precaution to plant a listening device in his dishonorable son's flower arrangement had proved useful. The bug was linked into his earpiece and now he had a name. _Iori._ And with that name he finally had the proof to do as he had been wanting to do for a long time. Masaharu made a note to comment to Motomiya on what a fine Lady his Jun was turning out to be. The girl's cooperation had only required an insignificant bribe.

A good half of an hour later, when everyone had finished their meal and conversations were dying down, he gave the signal. Dishes and utensils were removed. The tables were cleaned. And those of lesser rank, of insufficient funds, or not of the mood to stay on for the night's main event, slowly filed out the double doors. The Lords at the raised tables remained steady, but the lesser folk, seated among/at the dozen larger tables on the floor began to shift in anticipation.

Masaharu spared his son a brief glance. The boy was clearly uncomfortable, but was doing his best to hide it. _Just as well that I'm putting my plan into action now, rather than await a further, and possibly more disastrous, mishap._ He pushed back his chair and stood. All conversation ceased.

He projected his voice, brassy and confident, "Welcome, my friends, to the night's main event! Hopefully the dinner has satisfied your appetite for food, now feast your eyes on these delicacies and satisfy your appetite for flesh!"

The Slavemaster took control then, drawing the audience's attention to the recessed area of the floor. Masaharu gave a second look at his son... calm, cold, perhaps even bored excitement... the perfect mask. But that really was all it was. Ever since he was little, the boy had possessed a soft spot for slaves that could not be shaken, no matter the punishment. Masaharu was generous enough to allow that he was not completely blameless. He probably should have seen to it that young Yamato had been raised by people other than slaves, but he'd had other more important matters to attend to. When he was younger, Yamato had shed tears for the slaves. Those embarrassing moments soon stopped, but then the occasional confrontation would occur, their frequency increasing as Yamato grew older. Masaharu had suspected that the current peace over the slave matter was feigned and now, with tonight, he was able to confirm his suspicions. It pained him slightly that Yamato could not respect and uphold the laws that kept society functioning  especially when those laws kept the boy in a place of privilege. But he was amused by the irony that for all his son's empathy for slaves, now the boy would join them.

At least he had reliable, complacent Takeru. Natsuko was much smarter than he had anticipated. Surely, she had not imagined replacing his first son with his second, but that was why a man's mind was needed to deal with such matters. The plan was simple: dispose of Yamato, send for Takeru, and groom the boy a bit more closely than the last.

As he was pondering over the best way to raise his new heir, raised voices drew his attention back to the slave auction. Lord Yagami and a lesser Lord were standing. From the look on the man's face, Yagami had just out-bid him. On another evening, Masaharu might have been annoyed. Normally, the Lord's eclectic tastes and deep pockets were a pain, driving up the price of almost every slave shown. Indeed, some of the lesser Lords were already excusing themselves for the night. The man who had just lost, more correctly, stormed out. But tonight, Masaharu sat back and smiled.

Some of the other Lords disagreed with Yagami's actions  his passion and skill for inflicting pain, the rumors of his unusual tastes in the bedroom, and his love of strong-willed slaves and his joy for breaking their spirits. But Masaharu couldn't fault the masked man for any of his practices. Slaves were possessions and owners could do as they wished with their possessions.

Masaharu watched as Yagami purchased the next three slaves: a meek and comely serving girl (good for at least one night of pleasure), an elderly man (to everyone's shock), and a lightly scarred girl (still with fresh signs of correction). Yagami appeared to be in a buying mood. Well, that suited Masaharu's plans perfectly.

He waved a servant over.

"Have the slave called 'Iori' questioned about his actions today... particularly about any interactions he may have had with my son today. Do not inflict any physical harm in the process, there is time for that soon enough. Once he has been questioned, send a transcript to my datapad and take this, 'Iori,' to one of the more elaborate torture chambers."

The man bowed low to the whispered order and left quickly.

Now, to deal with Yamato...

Masaharu took his datapad, called up the serial number for that of the Slavemaster and sent him a one-word message: Harsher.

***

Yamato watched the auction with practiced detachment, but tonight his control was slipping.

He tried not to hear as the Slavemaster described the attributes and skills of each slave shown. He denied his body permission to react when the slave's initiation time was given as 'birth.' In his mind, he wondered why people so used to objectifying human beings, bothered to keep track of the enslavement situation of each slave. Perhaps allowing slaves individual names and keeping track of their life-history were signs that not all was hopeless. But in the end, he supposed it was a perverted form of bookkeeping.

Minutes passed into hours as the skin (clothed and not) paraded by. Lord Yagami, the rich bastard, continued in his sick habit of buying nearly anything that breathed. Yamato wished the poor slaves luck, even though he knew certain unhappiness was in store for anyone who was purchased by the masked Lord. All he could do was sit and wait for the macabre auction to end. _Watch the stage and wait for the day when you have the power to change this and put people like Yagami in the ground._

Out of the corner of his eye, Yamato saw his father call a servant over to his table, but he couldn't make out what was being said without turning his head away from the stage below. He could tell, though, that after the servant left, his father was smiling as he typed something into his data pad. _Not good. Not good. Not good,_ his mind chanted. Sternly, Yamato fixed his entire attention on the auction, hoping childishly that what he couldn't see wouldn't harm him. He really should have closed his eyes entirely, or excused himself, but that was out of the question. Some unknown lesser Lord purchased the current slave.

The next slave that was shown was female, nude, and clearly terrified. The Slavemaster glanced at his datapad and began announcing her statistics to the waiting audience. "This pretty flower is called 'Hana.' She was enslaved at the age of four and has spent the last twelve years as a domestic slave." He stepped behind the trembling girl, hefted one breast up and let it fall, demonstrating its ability to quickly spring back into place. "As you can see, this flower has blossomed and now her previous owner has decided to sell her so that she may allow others to partake of and appreciate her beauty." He ruffled his fingers through the girl's triangle of curly hairs. "See? A true redhead and rarer still, the buyer gets all of the fire with none of the heat. Her previous owner assures that the most resistance you will get from her is tears, and in the end, she always obeys. Now, who desires to purchase this thornless red rose? We shall start the bidding at 5,000 credits."

Yamato's stomach churned in suppressed anger. The Slavemaster continued to touch and fondle the suffering girl as he collected the bids. Some touching of the slave for sale was normal, but this was blatant torture. The Slavemaster was clearly enjoying his actions as well as most of the lesser Lords who hollered out encouragement or directions which the Slavemaster chose to follow or not. Despite High Lord Kidou's participation in the bidding, the only Lord at the raised tables to show any emotion was Lord Sora, in the form of mild displeasure. But the Lord said nothing, nor did she bid on the girl as she had on others that night. Yamato's frustration grew until finally, Kidou set a price no one was willing to increase and the girl was sold.

At this point, the female slave was unable to stand and was being helped off the stage by another slave. _Maybe it was just that one girl,_ Yamato told himself hopefully, knowing that if the next slave was subjected to similar treatment it would be difficult for him to remain quiet.

The slave that followed next was a male in a loincloth. His muscled arms were bound behind his back and a short chain connected his ankles. Variously aged scars from a whip cris-crossed his body. Defiance blazed in his eyes. Yamato judged that he couldn't have been more than eighteen years old. _This is one that will die young,_ he thought sadly.

The Slavemaster picked up a cane that was lying on the ground and gave the slave a flick across the buttocks. The slave bared his teeth and snarled, but did not move... to do so would be to invite punishment. "This slave is Mamuchi," the Slavemaster began. "He met with his calling in life somewhat later than most, at the age of fourteen. He's a strong lad, well suited for physical labor and foundry work in particular, but he needs correction frequently, as his previous nine masters have learned." He swatted the man across the front of his thighs, then continued to pepper blows from every angle as he spoke. "Who is willing to tame the beast and claim his power for their own? We'll start the bidding at 1,000 credits."

The room was silent. No one was willing to spend money on an obviously disobedient slave. The Slavemaster delivered a particularly flesh-cracking blow and the slave went down on one knee. "See? He submits!" he called out.

Yamato was a step below furious. He knew that slaves were usually treated worse by their masters, but the auctions were not supposed to glorify emotional and physical torture. Yes, they sold flesh, but usually there was a businesslike clinicality to them. Still, no one had placed a bid. Yamato studied the Slavemaster as he increased the severity of his blows. The man was smiling, he was enjoying himself. _He's out of control... this is getting out of hand._

Suddenly, the slave surged upwards, battering at the Slavemaster with his shoulder and the side of his body. The Slavemaster, clearly having the advantage of unfettered legs, stepped back and swept the feet out from beneath the slave. Now, the blows directed at the slave fell in much more painful areas... the face, the abdomen, the inner thighs. Cheers of encouragement for the Slavemaster came from the lesser Lords of the masque. Still, the slave tried to rise to his feet.

Yamato was already halfway out of his seat when the voice came. He quickly sat back down.

"I will call the bid of one thousand credits. The slave has shown spirit. I shall enjoy crushing it."

Heads turned to see High Lord Yagami standing. Excited chatter started up among the lesser Lords and even among the High Lords, every face held some form of interested pleasure. Sickened, Yamato pulled out his datapad and started calling up the fortress' lighting controls.

"I have one thousand from High Lord Yagami," The Slavemaster announced and the slave doubled his struggles at the mention of the cruel Lord's name. He received another harsh blow from the cane for his troubles. "One thousand going once!" Another blow. "One thousand going twice!" Another blow. "Sold!"

Yamato surged from his seat, hitting the key that would signal the room's lights to return to full illumination. He forced a smile. "And that finale concludes our masque for this evening, Lords and Ladies! I hope you have enjoyed yourselves. Please journey safely to your homes."

The moment the words left his mouth, Yamato knew he had overstepped his limits. Everyone looked at him like he was crazy. The program for the evening clearly listed six more slaves after this.

Yamato saw the Slavemaster's eyes flick to Masaharu and he watched as his father smiled and nodded.

Masaharu stood. "Yes, my son is correct. I regret to inform you that the final slaves listed were included in error. I hope you are satisfied with your purchases and that you travel safely."

Yamato was speechless.

His father walked over to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Well done, son. I had almost forgotten. It's a good thing you remembered," he said with a smile.

He was speechless and very, very scared. He forced another smile and nodded.

"You look a bit tired, though," Masaharu said gently. "Why don't you skip the socializing this evening and go get some rest."

Once again, Yamato nodded. Then he fled to his chambers, even though he knew sleep would never come. He had no friends, no allies; there was no place else to go.

***

The night was over. _That's it. Let's hope you made good choices._ Taichi stood to leave and paused when his datapad buzzed.

It was a message from Masaharu:

_High Lord Yagami~ I've been holding back a special slave that might interest you: Male. 22 years old, beautiful, unblemished, very willful, and brand new to his position in life. A slave such as this needs your special attentions. Please follow my servant as you exit the room if you are interested in this one-of-a-kind treat._

Without hesitation, Taichi began walking. How could he refuse? The slave was obviously rare and valuable, or he would have been put up for sale at the masque. 'Willful,' Masaharu had written... _He could be someone important,_ Taichi thought. Taichi tried to purchase those slaves that still possessed spirit. Freeing those already beaten into submission didn't always go well. For most cases, the body usually healed with time, but sometimes the mind never did. Posing as 'High Lord Yagami,' Taichi bought both weak and strong slaves to avoid suspicion, but his main goal was to purchase those who would fight to make a difference.

He spotted the servant and followed him down several corridors to a richly decorated room. Masaharu was already seated but he stood as Taichi entered.

"Lord Yagami," the man greeted. "I'm sorry if I seemed less than welcoming earlier. I had many important matters on my mind. Would you care for a drink?"

"No thank you. I would prefer to skip to the point. You said you had a slave to sell. How much?"

Masaharu smiled and named a sum.

Taichi gasped, but the built-in voice changer didn't allow it to escape the mask. "No slave is worth such a price."

"He is when he is my son."

_Yamato?_ Taichi tongued the switch for 'Evil Laugh #4' in order to buy himself some time to think. When the laughter died, he said, "So you're selling your heir. What brought this about?"

"The boy's sympathetic to slaves and he challenges me every chance he gets. He's worth more to me as a slave than he is as an heir. Besides, his younger brother will serve well enough as a replacement."

"Very wise of you to have a backup," he commented.

Masaharu gave him a cold, hard smile. "My offer?"

Behind the mask, Taichi glared. "I'm considering it. Even for your whelp, it is a considerable sum."

Taichi paused and thought. He had the amount of credits that Masaharu had named, but the same price could easily purchase twenty slaves. It was outrageous, and they both knew it. And in the back of his mind, there was a little voice that was telling him that it could be a trick.

But Taichi ended up ignoring all logic and signing over each and every credit the bastard of a Lord had asked for. He shushed the internal voices and allowed the mask to put the proper emotion into the words he spoke. "Thank you for coming to me with this unusual offer. It will be an interesting challenge. The little snot will probably be more trouble than he's worth, but I suppose that just means I get to take my pleasure in breaking him slowly."

"Ah, yes. About that. The sale is not yet complete until I see a demonstration of your skill. Since all have heard how torture is an art form of yours, I wish to see an example of such in order to make sure that this slave will receive the level of reconditioning that is necessary."

Taichi's blood ran cold and as he shivered, he was thankful for the masking effect of the full-body suit that enhanced his body mass to match that of his father's. "So you're saying that my purchase of the slave is conditional upon my performance tonight?"

The Lord shrugged casually. "Yes, it is. But I hardly think that giving a demonstration of your skill will be too troublesome for you. And I have a slave that needs a thorough punishment." He made a slight hand motion and in an instant, a uniformed man appeared. "Is the slave prepared?"

"Yes, sir. Basement Level C, Room 4."

"You may go," he said to the servant. Without looking back at Yagami, he exited the room. "Follow me."

***

Taichi stepped closer to the young boy spread between ceiling and floor by chains. He tongued the switch that cancelled the voice modification and opened the mouth hatch. Leaning close, he grasped the boy painfully by the hair and pretending to examine the slave's face, Taichi whispered for only the two of them to hear, "I'm sorry." Then the hatch was closed and the modifier turned back on.

Taichi lifted what was to be the first instrument of pain for the evening and put to use the horrible memories of his visits to other courts.

With Taichi's skill, it took nearly two hours for the boy to faint.

"Beautiful work," Masaharu complimented. "I love how you pretended to go gently at first. It served to only increase the pain of the later blows." Taichi's teeth clenched behind the mask. "You really should teach classes on this," he said.

Even with the voice transformer, Taichi had to control his tone very carefully. "I enjoyed it. Any chance I could get that little scrap of a slave thrown into the deal? It's nice for a change of pace to have one that doesn't scream. And his tears were lovely."

"No, he's not for sale. I have plans for this one," Masaharu said darkly. "Now, if you'll go to your transport, I'll send your new slave along in a few minutes."

Taichi paused. _I can't keep asking for the boy. If I act too interested in him, Masaharu could get suspicious._ For the sake of the others, he couldn't risk his position. Sickened by what he'd just done and saddened that he was unable help the slave boy, all Taichi could do was nod and head for the transport.

***

Yamato was alone in his chambers when he heard the outer door open.

"Yamato," his father's voice called. "Come in here, I want to talk to you."

He'd known it was his father even before he'd spoken  anyone else would have knocked first. Quickly, Yamato ran through his options. Running was out of the question. Yamato was in his bedroom, while the only exit to the rest of the fortress was the door that his father would be standing in front of. He doubted that he could get past his father... and even if he'd tried, if his father was, as he suspected, here to start trouble, there were probably guards outside the door as well. No running, no place to hide... that left negotiating and fighting.

Talking his way out of whatever trouble he was in was the preferable route, but Yamato seriously doubted that it would work. In the back of his mind, Yamato suspected that he had at least another beating coming for his outburst. This 'conversation' with his father would turn physical at some point. Flashes of previous punishments passed through his mind and his skin started to tingle. Anger gripped him. He would not suffer that again.

If his father wanted a fight, Yamato would give him one. His boots were off in his closet, no help to him now. But there was time enough to snatch up the stun gun he kept concealed in his room. It was an extreme response  he was aware of that  but with how his father had been acting strangely all day, Yamato was in no mood to take chances with his own skin. The weapon rested smooth and compact in his sweating palm. One blast would disable, a second, if given too soon after the first, would kill. He opened the door.

As he'd guessed, his father stood alone in the entry room.

"You were planning on using that on me?" Masaharu asked in an amused tone, eyeing the gun. "Who did you think I was, a thief?"

Yamato tensed. _He should have gotten angry at me pulling a gun on him._ "It depends on what you want to talk about," he managed bravely.

The older man nodded in understanding. "It's nothing much. I just have some news for you. I wanted you to know that the slave that you helped... Iori, I think his name was... has received his punishment from the skilled hands of Lord Yagami." Yamato's teeth clenched in anger. "The High Lord has been playing with him ever since you ended the masque so abruptly. The slave has only fainted just now." Masaharu arched an eyebrow. "If you had not neglected your duties, such an extreme punishment wouldn't have been necessary. But we can't let the slaves think that their disobedience will be rewarded with tolerance. Really, Yamato, I had hoped that you would outgrow this absurd behavior, but I can see now that you never will," Masaharu said, his face showing displeasure for the first time that evening. "Which is why," he continued, "I ordered the slave to be executed in front of the other slaves once he awakens."

Rage boiled through Yamato. With one blast, Masaharu was lying on the floor and Yamato straddled his chest, the weapon raised for another shot.

Somehow, through the paralyzing effect of the stun, Masaharu tsked his disapproval and managed to speak. "It's just as I thought," he sighed dramatically. "But, I should remind you that you need me."

Yamato's pulse was racing, urging him to take action. "Why?" he asked, breath trembling in barely controlled anger.

"Even if you kill me and take my place as High Lord, the other Lords will eat you alive. You think you know how the system works, you dreaming child? You're so bundled up in this cozy life I've given you, you wouldn't last a week."

"Enough!" He raised the weapon again, but hesitated. _I can't kill him, not because of what he said, but because... because I just can't._ "Give me another reason why I shouldn't kill you," he bluffed gruffly, now regretting he'd brought the gun with him in the first place. _This can't end well. I shouldn't have shot him if I wasn't planning on finishing it._ Strangely, Yamato hoped his father could provide an enticing reason for him to not make good on his threat.

Masaharu thought for a moment, then smiled. "You want to know about your mother."

"What?" Ice gripped his heart. Yes, Yamato _did_ want to know about his mother. He knew she was a slave, but that was all. Relieved, he lowered the weapon. His father wouldn't be moving anytime soon. "What about my mother?"

Masaharu smiled again. "Your mother was a slave of exceptional beauty, Yamato. I took great pleasure from her. And when the time came for me to create an heir, she bore you for me. Yet, in all her years of her service, she never once asked me for anything for herself. Which is why, when she finally did, I relented and granted her request."

Yamato was growing tired with his father's melodramatics. "That's enough. I'm leaving." Somehow, the man's hands clamped around his ankles and Yamato was prevented from getting to his feet. He clutched the stun gun with a white-knuckled grasp.

"Aren't you even curious what she wanted?" he asked seductively. "She asked me for a son, Yamato... one that would be her very own. I took him from her when he was old enough, of course. But I kept his existence a secret. You never can tell how children will turn out these days. I see now that it was wise of me to have a spare tucked away now that you're proving to be so rebellious."

The shock of the words was overwhelming. As if in a dream, the blond felt his grip loosen. _It can't be true._

"It's true," his father said, reading his son's reaction correctly. "Actually, he's just a few years younger than you, Yamato, and _he_ knows his place quite well. So truthfully, I don't need you at all."

Before Yamato could wonder what that was supposed to mean, Masaharu miraculously surged free. The older man pried away the weapon and fired a blast at his son's torso. Yamato crashed to the ground, unable to move and overwhelmed by pain. Masaharu stood over him, looking down in disgust.

"You're a fool to think a weapon like that would affect me. You should have known that I've had an incredibly expensive injection of nanotechs that take care of the effects of that particular weapon. If you'd studied my bodyguard details and safety procedures, you would have known that. It's just as well that I'll be getting rid of you, ignorance such as yours is a liability. And, in case you've forgotten," he mocked, "You, on the other hand, have not had any such injection." The Lord raised the weapon again.

"Can't... kill... me," Yamato mumbled with difficulty through unresponsive lips. His father raised a mocking eyebrow.

"Oh, I can, but there are other ways of disposing of unruly brats," his father said. Yamato winced as a kick was delivered to his stomach. "I've sold you, Yamato. I signed and sealed the deal even before I came in here. You should be praying right now that I've sold you to a kind master, but then again, your wishes won't make much of a difference. High Lord Yagami was most pleased to acquire you." Another kick connected with Yamato's stomach.

Yamato sucked in a gasp of pain, but whether it was from the blow or from the mention of the cruel man's name, he wasn't certain.

"I do hope you enjoy your last breath of freedom, my ex-son." Masaharu removed a syringe from his pocket and Yamato felt a prick at his neck, followed by a burning coldness. The sensation spread throughout his body and for a moment, all was still.

As the seconds ticked by without incident, Yamato felt his body relax despite the tension hanging thick in the air. The stun-blast still held him paralyzed, but now the stinging pain had tapered away to a fuzzy cold tingling. _How odd. It always looked more painful when I saw this done to others._ From a long, long way off, Yamato felt something touch his face. By the time his mind registered the blow, he had already begun the quick spiral into unconsciousness.


	2. Awakening

In another few hours it would be dawn. In the blackness that lay outside the cockpit window, Koushiro thought he spotted a dark figure heading toward the transport. He rubbed a weary eye, not really trusting his vision and fighting off a brain-numbing mix of exhaustion, anger, and concern. Surely if there was a threat to the transport, it would come with a larger number of attackers. After a tense moment during which his fingers were poised over the weapons controls, the figure keyed in the correct security code.

The man he had been waiting for finally stumbled into the cockpit. It was nearly two and a half hours after the other guests had left and the evening's purchases had been delivered. Fully awake and no longer worried, Koushiro was beyond angry.

Ever cautious, he slapped the control that locked the outer door and set up a security field around the cockpit that would block any attempts at spying. Being secure in the knowledge that they were safe, he turned his attention to his tardy friend.

"Where the _hell_ have you been!" he shouted, awkwardly catching up the front of the larger man's robes and shaking him violently. "I've been worried sick! I was just about to head back with the slaves and organize a rescue. There was no message. No signal that you were still alive. What were you thinking?"

When the cloaked figure made no move to defend himself, Koushiro ceased the shaking, afraid of rattling away whatever sense the Lord still possessed. He sighed, wondering what was going on with his best friend.

"Take it off," he ordered with a frown that was only somewhat tempered by the concern in his voice. "The transport's secure."

Within moments, the dark metal mask was on the floor and, to Koushiro's surprise, a familiar series of soft clicks sounded, signaling the release of the bodysuit. The mass of robes, synthetic flesh, armor, and circuitry parted like a splitting cocoon to reveal a strong body clothed in a navy blue jumpsuit.

No longer in the costume of Lord Yagami, Taichi stood before him, pale, silent, and trembling. Although there wasn't a mark on him, he looked beaten.

"Shit," Koushiro swore gently, taking a step forward. "What happened, Taichi?" Silence. He gulped. "Did the mask fail? Do they suspect us? Did you have to explain?" He couldn't think of what else could have happened to make Taichi act like this. It had to have been that the mask had failed and Taichi had been stuck explaining the change in his voice.

_If there was a problem with the mask, it's my fault,_ he thought guiltily. _It's my responsibility to make sure it's functioning correctly._ Anxiety built in the genius with each passing second. "Maybe we should leave right away," he suggested. Koushiro began to reach for the engine controls, but Taichi's grip, as unusually weak as it was, stopped him.

"No, the mask didn't fail. And no, we can't leave yet," Taichi said, sounding only like a poor imitation of his normally confident and irrepressible self. "We have to wait for tonight's last purchase to be delivered," he added.

"You bought another slave? Separate from the others?"

Taichi nodded.

Mind whirling in activity, Koushiro punched up the account used for slave purchases and was shocked to see that the funds had dropped so sharply. "How many more did you buy? Thirty? A whole town? That's great, but how are we going to transport them all?" As he spoke, Taichi was shrinking smaller. If Koushiro hadn't known any better, he would have said the man was cringing. "What is it?"

Taichi refused to meet his eyes. "It was just one," he whispered.

_One slave._ All of that hard-gathered money had gone for a single slave. "One," he echoed in disbelief and a growing sense of dread. "_Who?_ Taichi, what happened in Masaharu's fortress? Why did it take you so long to get back?"

The Lord moved to one of the seats, shaking his head. "I can't believe it," he said, not providing any sort of useful answer. His knees curled defensively up to his chest as his arms wrapped about them in a desperate embrace.

Koushiro watched in silence, feeling utterly useless, as Taichi sank his head into the hollow created by his arms. _It's moments like this that remind me why I prefer dealing with computers  there's no diagnostic to run on humans that will tell me what's wrong._ His obvious attempts to reach his friend had failed. Words had always been Taichi's strong point. It was Taichi's words that kept hundreds of thousands safe. _If Taichi can't talk about it, what hope do I have of saying something to make him feel better?_

Unable to do anything more, he walked over and rested his right hand on Taichi's shoulder. With his left, he used his fingers to comb through the unruly brown hairs that had been beaten into submission by the mask. It amused Koushiro that for all Taichi's complaints about helmet-hair and the unpleasantness of him having that much hair trapped inside the mask creating heat and sweat, Taichi refused to let his hair be trimmed.

After much coaxing, the limp hair recuperated from its captivity, slowly lifting to an unkempt semblance of its former gloriously orchestrated chaos. Koushiro rested his hand on the unburdened shoulder and began a slow massage. Fingers, nimble and strong from typing at keyboards for hours at a time, sought out the knots in Taichi's tense shoulders. He was rewarded for his efforts by the sudden deep breath that came from Taichi.

Slowly, the brunet tilted his head back and he looked up at Koushiro in quiet gratitude before closing his eyes once more. The Lord took another steadying breath. "Do you remember Yamato?" Taichi finally asked.

Koushiro searched his memory. "He's the Lord Masaharu's son." _And when we were younger, you liked him._

Taichi nodded. "Yes, that's him. The slave that I bought tonight was _Yamato_."

"It could be a trap." Koushiro had to say it.

"I know. I thought of that. But considering the price, I can't believe that Masaharu suspects us of anything."

"Taichi," Koushiro admonished. "You can't go by credits."

The knots that had been loosening rematerialized as Taichi shuddered.

"You didn't see his eyes. And... the money wasn't the only price that I had to pay. If they had suspected anything, they would have killed me afterwards."

Oh. _Oh, Taichi..._ A thousand nightmares fluttered through his mind and his fingers stilled as they clenched into anxious fists. Koushiro walked around and knelt in front of where Taichi sat huddled. "What else happened?" he asked softly. "How else did you pay?"

After a moment of apparent hesitation on Taichi's part, Koushiro was enfolded in a rib-grinding embrace.

No, he didn't like it. Yes, Taichi was hardly acting like his usually controlled self. And yes, given Taichi's current coordination, he probably could have avoided the crushing hug. _But something is seriously wrong. And we've been together through too much for me to put his emotional stability beneath a bruised rib... or three._

On his knees, Koushiro endured the uncomfortable grip for a long while until at last, Taichi mumbled something into his shoulder.

"What was that?" he asked, squirming ineffectively against the hold. He strained his ears as Taichi repeated himself, but the only bits that he could make out were "so small" and "too much."

By now, chills were running down his spine and Koushiro had moved past angry, past concerned, and far past worried. Now Koushiro was scared for his friend and he vowed death, vengeance, or at the very least, an extremely devastating virus, on whoever or whatever had put Taichi in such a state.

Koushiro moved his hand in what he hoped were soothing strokes along Taichi's back. The suit was intact. They couldn't have hurt him physically. But was it possible that he'd been hurt in some other way? "How else did you pay?" he repeated. "Did they do something to you?"

Taichi mumbled a 'no.'

_That 'no' doesn't sound very sure._ "Taichi?" he demanded sternly.

"No!" Taichi's fists clenched in the fabric of Koushiro's shirt with such strength that the seams ripped. He raised his head to face Koushiro, his expression twisted in a grimace of pain.

"I'd already agreed to the credits, but then the bastard said he wouldn't let me have Yamato until he saw a  a _demonstration_ of my _skills_," he spat.

Koushiro still didn't understand. The dreadful puzzle lacked a crucial piece. He held himself silent and without breath as Taichi forced himself to continue.

"He wanted me to... the _fucking bastard!_" Taichi sucked in more air to get a hold of himself. With his face turned away, the truth came out in a rush. "Masaharu wanted me to torture a kid! And I did it!"

Torn between horror and sympathy, Koushiro felt his heart break as Taichi hesitantly looked at him. He could feel the brown eyes begging him for mercy, for he knew that Taichi didn't even dare to seek forgiveness.

"I did it," Taichi said hollowly. "I tortured that little boy because I thought that sticking to the deal and getting Yamato was important."

The genius let the air he'd been holding escape rapidly from his lungs in surprise. That was not the answer that he'd been expecting. _Oh fuck._

Taichi, once more, pressed his face to his friend's neck.

"Koushiro, I hate myself right now."

"We'll make it right, somehow." The words, cliche and wooden, were coming from his mouth without thought.

Taichi shook his head. "I tried to buy the boy, to get him away, but Masaharu wouldn't sell."

"We'll find a way. We _will_ make it right, Lord Taichi," Koushiro said more firmly, trying to use the reminder of duty to calm his friend. "You stuck to your gut instinct. I remember that you've cared for Yamato in the past and I can imagine that you think that affected your decision. But I also know that as a Lord, your gut is rarely wrong. And while I think the whole thing has the chance of being a mistake"

Taichi cut him off. "You think I acted irresponsibly," he said matter-of-factly. The hug evaporated as he backed away with an uncomfortable expression.

The red-head winced. "That's not what I was going to say."

"You were thinking it, though," Taichi accused softly. Then he looked down. "Don't worry. I'm thinking it too."

Koushiro scowled. "You didn't let me finish. What I was about to say was, even though I don't understand your choice, I trust you. Taichi, nobody can do this, put on this act, better than you can. You can't escape what you are. Your father was" he cursed himself for talking about the man like he was dead and began again. "Your father _is_ a brilliant man, and you have his same talents. Until he returns, _you_ are the Lord that protects everyone."

"Look, Koushiro, I know you're trying to help, but talking about me about being a Lord isn't making me feel any better. I don't want to be reminded right now of how much people depend on me."

Unwilling to let Taichi walk away when he was finally showing some signs of life, Koushiro kept talking. "Well maybe it doesn't matter what you want!" The Lord looked up at him, looking shocked by the uncharacteristic outburst. "Taichi, have you ever stopped to wonder about _why_ people look to you to protect them? It's not just because they think that you're your father. It's because we believe in you. We have faith that you're doing your absolute best to keep us safe."

Koushiro softened his voice. "What you experienced tonight was a horrible thing, but you have our trust. The hundreds of slaves that you've freed, they trust you. The hundreds of thousands of subjects that live under laws that you uphold, they trust you. Taichi, your sister loves and trusts you, and so do I. You'll get through this. So just give it some time. It'll work out."

He watched Taichi closely, anxious to see if his words had any effect. The man was nodding, but there was something about the motion that made Koushiro think it was more a gesture of defeat than one of acceptance.

_He still doesn't believe me. He's only agreeing because he's just too exhausted right now to hate himself any further. Maybe... maybe I should have dropped the responsibility speech when he asked me to. He's acting calmer now, but who knows what he's really thinking..._

Koushiro almost growled in frustration, but he caught himself, knowing it was likely Taichi would blame himself for causing the stress.

_ It's me that should be apologizing. Yet again, I've said the wrong thing. I really shouldn't have reminded him about duty at a time like this. _

"I'm sorry," he offered in apology. "I guess that didn't help much."

Taichi flashed a lopsided grin. "It's okay. Don't feel bad, Koushiro. It helped a little." He shook his head. "I just need..." His voice trailed off and the hand that he had been raising fell back to his side.

Koushiro studied the scuffs on the floor, lost in thought.

_It's always this way. He hates asking for things for himself. Even when his father was missing, Taichi mourned in private. He kept his fears to himself. All because he didn't want to **trouble** anyone. Only when Hikari had broken down in front of him in uncontrollable sobs, did he allow us to see his tears. And even then, he wouldn't accept comfort from anyone but her. _

_ He must be really hurting right now for his control to have slipped to the point where he'd squeeze me tight enough to hurt me. I want to help him, but how can I? If Hikari were here, she'd hug him. Though, I don't know if that will work for me again. He's already pulled away from me once tonight... But, I guess it won't hurt to try. _

Hesitantly, and feeling altogether unsure of himself, Koushiro stepped forward. "Hikari is not present, but will I suffice in her place?" He opened his arms.

Taichi was in them in a second, the embrace more gentle this time, less desperate. Koushiro returned the hug as best he could, knowing how much that earlier smile and admission of need had cost, and wishing that Hikari were truly here to help comfort Taichi...

It was working. The trembling had stopped and Taichi was calming down. But even though Koushiro knew he should be focusing on his friend, he couldn't stop himself from thinking that the whole situation was just, _wrong_. Taichi needed advice. He needed opinions. He needed facts. But he _never_ needed comforting. Pondering the dichotomy between Taichi's surreal strength and his almost-tears, Koushiro had a moment of clarity.

_ Taichi's a natural leader. He's good at talking his way out of trouble. He's played a dangerous role that lesser men would have fumbled or would have been broken by. And until tonight, he's done it with ease. But it could destroy him. I can only hope that it will not, but he needs someone that can support him, someone that he feels comfortable reaching out to. _

_ Hikari and I can't fill that role. He thinks we're weaker and he hesitates to share with us because he wants to shelter us. Taichi needs someone who's just as strong and stubborn as he is. But, isolated by his mask, who else can he turn to? Who else can he reveal his true face to?_

_Wearing the suit and mask is changing him. It was fine when all he had to do was act tough and talk mean. But he's never had to sacrifice more than words  never had to raise his hand and hurt another human being. Now, for the sake of protecting others, he's let his morals, his actions be polluted. True, it's only one incident, but with that single moment, he's lost the protection of being innocent. And for that loss, he needs to mourn._

Koushiro eased damp locks of hair away from Taichi's forehead."You know," he began hesitantly, unsure if more words would help. "It's okay to cry."

Taichi burrowed his head closer. "I can't cry anymore," he whispered brokenly.

Heart aching, Koushiro left it at that, not willing to push the issue, and saddened that his friend had lost the ability to cry. He closed his eyes and a tear streaked down from burnt-red lashes. He clutched his friend closer and whispered back, "It's okay, I'll do it for you."

_ You can't cry with me, you won't let me share the burden of your pain, so I'll cry for you._

***

Eventually, there was a knock at the door.

Taichi shifted away. "They're delivering him. Deal with it, please. I can't. I just can't."

Koushiro gave his shoulder a soft squeeze. "Right. Leave it to me. Just stay out of sight."

Taichi nodded, gathered up the suit and mask, and left the cockpit.

With a sigh, Koushiro checked to make sure his appearance was suitable. Hoping that it was dark enough to conceal the rips in the seams, he opened the door. Four soldiers stood outside. Two were in front and two more stood behind, bearing a slumped figure.

"We're sorry for the delay," one of them apologized.

"He had to be knocked unconscious," another explained. "The drug he's been given will keep him that way for six hours. Maybe more, since he's so scrawny."

"I see," Koushiro said.

"Where do you want him?"

"This way," Koushiro commanded, leading them around the side of the ship.

At the cargo bay door, he keyed in an eight-digit sequence. Almost immediately, a burly doctor dressed as a Slavemaster appeared at the door. Koushiro caught his eye. "Take the slave inside and wait for me." The doctor nodded and the limp blond was passed over.

The genius returned his attention to the four soldiers.

"If you'd sign here, please, Lord, we can complete the transfer." A soldier held out two small datapads.

Koushiro suppressed a smile at the honorific title and signed to acknowledge the delivery of Yamato. He passed one datapad back and kept the other for himself.

"Give Lord Yagami's regards to Lord Masaharu for such a fine evening," he said in dismissal, knowing he didn't quite manage to sound like he was comfortable saying the words. But if the soldiers noticed anything awkward, they didn't comment on it. In unison, the four nodded and spun on their heels. Koushiro watched and waited until they disappeared into the fortress.

***

Before he returned to the cockpit, Koushiro wanted to get a closer look at Yamato. As he walked through the slave compartment, he steeled himself against the looks of fear and hate. He felt sorry for them all to be locked up for this long before departure, but they couldn't be told of their non-slave status until each had been screened and approved. They'd had some trouble with spies in the past year.

Which was why, when Koushiro looked upon the fragile-looking man, it was hard for him to feel any sort of sympathy. Despite Taichi's gut feeling to 'rescue' the ex-Lord and despite what had been said about trust to calm the brunet, Koushiro had an equally strong gut feeling that Taichi had made a very grave mistake.

_There's no way he can ever be trusted. His father's horribly abusive and power-hungry. How can the son be any different from the father that raised him? _

Koushiro was confident that Taichi would realize the truth soon enough. He only hoped that it wouldn't cause his friend too much pain.

The doctor approached him. Because he knew Taichi would ask him, Koushiro asked how the slave was doing.

"From the looks of his injuries, he struggled and was beaten before they drugged him unconscious. Some of the bruising might have been inflicted even after he'd been knocked out."

Koushiro nodded. "This one has a high probability of being dangerous. Only you, the Lord, and I are to have contact with him. Treat his injuries, but keep him fully sedated until you hear from me otherwise. When we reach Lord Yagami's domain, place him in a cell far away from the others and search his clothes thoroughly for any devices that might compromise our security. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Koushiro was almost at the door when he paused and turned back to the doctor. "One more thing. I need a special drink for the Lord."

***

After switching to auto-pilot, the red-haired genius found Taichi sitting on the bed in his private room on the transport. As he'd anticipated, Taichi raised his head immediately and asked about Yamato.

Koushiro resisted the urge to scowl at his friend's concern for the ex-Lord. "He's fine. Banged up a bit and they drugged him unconscious, but there are no serious injuries." Taichi nodded, then leaned back to rest his head against the wall and closed his eyes. Breaking the silence that followed, Koushiro asked, "Are you hungry? I know you didn't eat at the masque. Do you want me to bring you something?"

Taichi shook his head. "I'm not hungry." He opened his eyes then, focusing on the floor. "Koushiro, I can't stop thinking about what I did to that boy. Do you really think I did the right thing?"

There was silence for a moment as Koushiro decided whether or not to tell the truth. "I don't know," he finally said honestly enough. "We'll find out in the morning once we've questioned him." Taichi didn't respond and Koushiro left the room after the brown eyes glazed over and went unseeing.

He returned with a glass and handed it to Taichi. "Drink it."

Slowly, the young Lord's eyes focused. The trembling from before was gone, but his face remained pale. "I'm feeling better," he announced defensively, still holding the full glass in his hand.

"I know," Koushiro said.

Taichi sighed, took a sip, then asked, "Is it drugged?"

Koushiro smiled sadly and didn't reply. He didn't need to.

Tired brown eyes met his and Taichi drained the glass in a gulp. The Lord's head was on the pillow in minutes.

Gently, Koushiro tucked the sheet in closer about his friend's body and he pressed a soft kiss onto the warm forehead. _Sleep well, Taichi._

***

Taichi awoke in his own familiar bed at the fortress, the covers from the transport still wrapped around him. _Koushiro must have had the doctor help carry me here._ Only a select few were allowed to come near him when he was unmasked, for fear of the secret being revealed. Everyone except for Hikari, the doctor, Koushiro, and Koushiro's adoptive parents, believed Taichi to be dead. It wasn't an easy way to live, but it was better than the alternative.

When his father disappeared and no trace of him could be found, the group of men that helped oversee his territory became more and more nervous about the situation. Disagreements became harder to resolve and without the unifying presence of Lord Yagami, the solidarity that protected the territory was threatened. No ransom came.

Knowing that he had to take action, Taichi disappeared from view, telling everyone that he was personally going in search of the man. In truth, he never left the fortress. Koushiro helped hide him and together they plotted the best way to preserve the peace and safety of Lord Yagami's territory. It had been over a month with no contact whatsoever from his father.

If the death was announced, it was unlikely that Lord Yagami's commanders would accept a new leader. The internal squabbling would tear them apart. And, although the commanders each possessed cunning, none had sufficient skills to keep up the charade and even if one did, the illusion of cruelty wouldn't work a second time. The cautiously suspicious High Lords would rightly suspect something. Furthermore, High Lords newly come to power were challenged. There would be no way to substitute someone in Lord Yagami's place. Unless, that man was Lord Yagami himself. Somehow, Taichi had to find a way to bring his father back from the dead.

Forced to admit to himself that his father was either dead or never coming back, Taichi came up with a risky plan. He had been at his father's side constantly, from the age of ten, watching and learning. The only way to keep the territory safe was for someone to become Lord Yagami. Taichi decided that he was the best for the task.

Koushiro, his adoptive parents, and their family's doctor worked on the plan. The suit and mask were built and tested. Meanwhile, Koushiro had helped spread rumors of a terrible accident  Taichi had found his father, the only survivor of the crash of his transport, but during his rescue, Taichi had slipped and fallen to his death. Lord Yagami was then rumored to be back at the fortress, but in seclusion due to his severe injuries and his mourning of his deceased son. Hikari was informed of the plan and with her and the doctor's help, the rumors were accepted as fact.

Once the suit and mask were deemed fully functional, Taichi made his first appearance as Lord Yagami. He ordered the floor of his quarters to be completely cleared and set off-limits to any but a select few and he named Koushiro to be his chief assistant, filling the role of Taichi. There were grumbles at that last order  some believed someone older should fill the role  but the order was soon accepted without complaint, most choosing to believe that Lord Yagami considered the teen a replacement for his dead son. The mask was explained as covering the severe scarring and deformation caused by the crash that had been left untreated for such a long time.

The first year was undeniably difficult, but the ruse worked. With the years of watching his father in action, Taichi could copy the 'cruel Lord Yagami' persona without hesitation. He was very mature for the age of eighteen and his decisions were fair and wise. None of the other Lords showed any suspicion, nor did they question his authority. Taichi saw to it that some were slipped the information that the two-month absence from public life was actually time spent in furthering a project that would give Yagami millions of extra credits. Again, the rumor was chosen to be taken as fact. In the four years that had passed, he'd been able to free more than three thousand slaves.

Taichi had given up his life to become Lord Yagami, but it was better than the alternative.

***

The ancient wooden clock in the corner chimed, drawing Taichi's attention to the fact that he had awoken past lunchtime  a fact that was strongly reinforced by the loud protestations of his empty stomach. Glancing around the room, Taichi located the suit and mask. _Time to get dressed._ Then he caught sight of himself in the mirror and almost laughed. _Mask or no mask, I can still benefit from a shower and a shave._

Feeling much better after being washed clean by the hot water, Taichi dressed in his mask and customary black robes. The suit remained sitting in the chair Koushiro had propped it up in, used only when venturing outside his fortress. Taichi walked the empty corridors to the elevator. This entire level of the fortress was for his use only and was accessible only to those who knew his secret, for it was only here on this level that he did not wear the mask. Taichi keyed in the code for the elevator. The code to leave the level was different from the code to enter  Koushiro thought of everything. Even if someone somehow managed to enter his sanctuary, they would be unable to leave without the second code. And in case of emergencies, there was a code-locked stairwell.

Taichi was thankful for the way that Koushiro looked out for him. Last night had been no exception. The genius was always concerned for his safety. Although Koushiro's loyalty was so strong sometimes it made him feel unworthy, he was intensely grateful to have it. And in the lonely years since his father's disappearance, he didn't think he could have lived without it.

He knew part of the loyalty was out of gratitude to his family. Koushiro had been purchased as an infant and had grown up in safety under the care of his adoptive parents. But Taichi also knew the majority of Koushiro's loyalty toward him was because of their friendship. For although their heights differed greatly, they were roughly the same age and had been good companions since childhood. Taichi smiled as he thought back to their previous adventures... well,

_pranks_, might be a more correct term.

The pattern back then had been simple. Taichi would come up with a wonderful idea. Koushiro would protest, but in the end, he would use his intuitive knowledge of the way things worked to achieve Taichi's desired effect. And then the brunet would use every ounce of the charm he'd been born with to keep the punishment minor in comparison to the ill-received crime. Truthfully, the situation wasn't all that different now. The mask that Koushiro created and maintained kept him in a position to help people and Taichi's own acting abilities kept him alive and undiscovered.

Koushiro had always been a loyal friend. Now, with this business with Yamato, Taichi felt that somehow he had betrayed that loyalty. It was obvious that Koushiro thought he'd made a mistake in purchasing the young Lord, but Taichi couldn't even begin to explain his actions to his friend because he could barely explain them to himself.

Why? Why had he bought Yamato?

_ **Yamato was hunched into a ball at the back of some storage room. If I hadn't taken off after him the second he ran away, I would never have found him. I came closer to him and the sniffing noises stopped. He turned around and glared at me.**_

_ **"Come to make fun of me?"**_

_ **"No," I said. For a moment, I wasn't quite sure what else to say. His voice was so cold and angry. I wanted to help make him feel better, but he looked like he didn't want me around. But when have I ever let something like that stop me?**_

_ **"Why are you still standing there?" he asked.**_

_ **Like they always did, the words just came. "I wanted to tell you that I agree with you," I told him. "I believe that slaves are people too. And, I guess I wanted to say that it's not wrong to feel sad when someone that you love dies."**_

_ **Yamato scrambled backwards, away from me, shaking his head. "No, it's a trick. My father sent you. You'll tell him that I'm still crying and that I like the slaves."**_

_ **"Your father didn't send me," I said, disappointed that he would think that about me. "I came on my own, because I wanted to make sure that you're all right. I've never met a Lord my age before that liked slaves too, and you looked so sad when you ran away, so I wanted to make you feel better. I don't have any proof, but I'm telling you the truth."**_

_ **"You could still get me in trouble. Why should I trust you?"**_

_ **"Where I live, we get along much better with our servants and 'slaves,' if you could call them that. When we're dealing with other people, we act cold and cruel, but really, it's all a game. We try to help people when we can. Now, I probably shouldn't be telling you this  it's kind of a family secret  but now you know too. So, I'll keep your secret, if you'll keep mine."**_

_ **I reached my hand out. Waiting for him to take it felt like an eternity. But he finally did, and we sealed the promise with a handshake.**_

_ **He looked a little happier, even managed a small half-smile, but what I really wanted was to see him smile all the way. He was pretty when he was glaring at me, so I could only imagine what it would look like when he was really happy.**_

_ **I slugged him on the shoulder. "Hey, cheer up."**_

_ **"No," he scowled back at me. "Kumoashi's still dead," he said... right before he punched me in the face.**_

_ **Okay, I guess I deserved that because I forgot about what had upset him in the first place. But even so, I still wanted to see him smile.**_

_ **Yamato turned his back on me. Okay. Fine. He could be that way. But I was determined to find a way to make him happy. It would be difficult, but I'm always up for a challenge.**_

_ **Normally, when I'm trying to make someone feel better, like Hikari, I wouldn't have to do much more than go up and give them a hug. Something told me that it wouldn't work that way with Yamato, but I decided to try it anyway.** _

_ **The moment my arms were around him, he froze.**_

_ **"What are you doing?"**_

_ **"Hugging you." I expected him to shove me away, smash my face in, or both.**_

_ **But all he said was, "Oh." A couple of seconds later he asked, "Why?"**_

_ **"Because it feels nice, doesn't it?"** _

_ **"It feels strange," he said, after giving it some thought.**_

_ **I laughed. "That's because you're not doing it right." And he wasn't. I was hugging him, but he was just sitting there with his hands at his sides.**_

_ **He snarled in anger. "Don't make fun of me. I haven't been hugged in a really long time, okay?"**_

_ **"Oh," I said, feeling sorry for him. "How long is 'a really long time?'"**_

_ **He thought about it for a bit. "Six years, probably."**_

_ **When I heard that, nothing was more important right then than making him happy.**_

_ **"Well," I told him confidently, "hugging's not really a skill that you can forget. Just turn around and wrap your arms around my back and lean toward me a little... That's it," I encouraged when he did as I'd instructed. Slowly, I felt the tension in his embrace fade away and Yamato pressed himself closer against my body. "Feel better now?"**_

_ **He nodded and his nose rubbed against the soft fabric covering my shoulder. "This does feel nice." He was quiet for a little while, then he looked up at me. "What's your name?"**_

_ **I grinned at him. "I'm Taichi," I told him.**_

_ **Then he smiled at me the smile that I'd been waiting for. "Thank you, Taichi."**_

_ **He stayed leaning against me for so long that if I hadn't checked, I would have thought that he'd fallen asleep on me. But eventually, he drew away.**_

_ **"If I'm gone for too much longer, I'll get in trouble with my father."**_

_ **I nodded. "Yeah, my dad's probably worried about me too. We're really close."**_

_ **Yamato looked nervous again. "Promise again that you won't tell my father I was crying," he demanded.**_

_ **I grinned again, then swooped down and kissed him on the cheek before he could react. "There, it's a promise," I whispered in his ear.**_

_ I've wondered for years what would have happened if I'd stayed instead of dashing out the door. But I never saw him again until I donned the mask._

_ And even though all this time has passed, and even if he's changed into a completely different person, I still want to see him happy. Because when he smiled right before he thanked me, it was the most beautiful sight I've ever seen._

Something told Taichi that even if things all turned to hell, he wouldn't ever regret buying Yamato. He didn't know how he had fallen in love at such a young age and in such a short time, but he had. Now all he needed to do was make sure that everything worked out for the best. It would be hard keeping his feelings in check, but there was really no other choice. Cracks in the mask were dangerous.

Last night had been close. He'd almost blown his cover and refused to hurt the boy. Maybe he should have; there must have been some other way. But he couldn't think of anything then and he still couldn't think of anything now. Too much was riding on a reputation that was based on smoke and mirrors, or rather cloaks and masks, to do anything that would detract from that image. Countless lives were kept safe by the suffering inflicted upon one  that was what Koushiro had tried to get him to focus on, but even now that he was calmer, it still sounded like bullshit.

With sleep, the self-hatred from that horrible act had faded. The despair and self-loathing that he had felt last night were lost in the world of dreams. It still felt like it was much more than just a very bad dream... but the harsh, painful edges of the memory were dulled. Even so, the guilt remained, and probably always would. _But someday_, he vowed to the silent boy,_ someday, I'll come back for you._

***

Exiting the elevator, Taichi made his way to Koushiro's workshop, guessing correctly that the genius would be there. When he entered, Koushiro looked up from the array of monitors. The doors shut behind him and Taichi tongued off the voice modulation.

"Hi," he greeted, knowing that Koushiro would still be worried about him. "At noon today, Taichi returned to his body, only to find that it had been seriously deprived of nourishment. So I was wondering if you'd like to disconnect yourself for a while and join me for a late lunch. Because, at least when I last checked, light photons and computer chips weren't included as part of a balanced meal."

The concern showing on Koushiro's face disappeared as he grinned. "Well, if you're hungry and making jokes, then you must be all right," he said with a laugh.

"Seriously, though," Taichi continued, "thanks for last night. I'm feeling 110% better now. The rest did me good."

"That's good to hear," the red-head said with genuine happiness. "So, back to your floor?"

"Yeah," Taichi thumped his knuckles against the side of the mask. "Eating with this thing on is always such a pain."

They both laughed.

"Let's stop by the kitchens and carry our food up," Koushiro suggested. "It'll be a good chance to let people see you. You know that they worry every time you leave."

Taichi nodded and tongued the switch. "Showtime," he said with Lord Yagami's deeper voice.

Getting food didn't take nearly as long as Taichi had dreaded. The cooks were delighted to see him and had been keeping his favorite meal warm for him ever since they had received word that he'd returned safely. Lord Yagami's favorite meal wasn't the same as Taichi's, but it still tasted good. Koushiro's meal only took several more minutes to be ready.

Burdened with heaping trays of food, they entered the elevator and punched in the code for Taichi's floor. Taichi was enjoying the easy silence between them, but Koushiro broke it.

"Taichi, are you sure you're all right after last night?" he asked.

Taichi gave a snort of annoyance that didn't make it past the voice changer. He tongued the device off. "You're a brave man to ask me that in an enclosed space while I'm carrying a tray of steaming hot soup," he quipped.

Koushiro rolled his eyes. "Seriously?"

Taichi sighed. "Yeah. I'll be okay."

The red-head glanced up at him with a calculating expression. Taichi could tell that genius wasn't sure he believed him. In truth, Taichi wasn't all too sure he believed himself, either. _But, I'll pretend it's all right until it **is** all right. _The boy's pained face would vanish from his mind eventually, and in the meantime, there were plenty of other things which required his full attention.

"Honestly, Koushiro. I'll be fine. Don't tell Hikari, though, okay? I don't want anyone else to know."

"Okay, I won't," the genius promised. "I understand."

Exiting the elevator, they walked down the empty corridors to the dining room. In unison, they set their trays down on the glass tabletop. Taichi tongued the release for the helmet and set it down on a stand in the corner of the softly lit room. Koushiro had waited for him, so Taichi took his seat and they both began eating.

***

"Dinner last night gave me more information on Lord Otis and the Kaizer," Taichi said once his stomach was pleasantly full. "But discussing that can wait until tomorrow. Right now, I want to know how the new arrivals are adjusting."

"On the average, they're doing good. Everyone seems to be adjusting well. Excluding your extra purchase, we're confident that none of them are spies." Koushiro softened the remark by continuing quickly, "The old man, though, fell ill on the journey here. The doctor assures me that it's not contagious, but he's in bad shape. The sellers probably knew that  that's why the price was so low for him."

Taichi looked at him, his expression grave. "Well, have the doctor do his best to help him. It would be unfortunate if he were to die now that he's free. What about the man that was beaten?"

Koushiro checked the notes on his datapad. "After he promised not to try attacking the doctor again, he was patched up. He's a strong fighter and has agreed to help us." The red-head set the pad down and looked across the table at him. "You made good choices, Taichi."

Taichi nodded then frowned. "What about Yamato?" Koushiro took a breath, hesitating to say what Taichi knew he eventually would. "Just say it, Koushiro."

"All right. Taichi, you must know that this could be part of a plot to attack you. I know you've cared about him and I know that Yamato has displayed a kindness to slaves in the past. Even so, he could still be working with his father to destroy you."

"Why do you keep bringing that up?" Koushiro had a point, but Taichi was becoming frustrated since the shorter man had brought up his crush on Yamato again.

"Bringing what up?"

"Me liking Yamato."

"Well, don't you?" Koushiro asked with curiosity.

Taichi bit his lip. He had, but did he still? "I don't know. That was nine years ago and he hasn't seen me, the real me, since then. I don't know if he still remembers what happened." He frowned. "But all of that shouldn't matter. Those weren't the only reasons why I bought him. If he doesn't like me, that'll be fine. If he isn't a spy, he might be willing to give us information that we don't have access to. And even if he doesn't help us at all, nobody deserves what Masaharu wanted done to him."

"True," Koushiro conceded. "So, I won't stop you from doing this, Taichi, but I want you to be really careful."

Taichi looked away. "Of course. I know what's at stake. And, if it makes you feel better, I don't fully trust him either." _Yet_.

Koushiro remained silent and Taichi continued, toying with his cloth napkin as he talked.

"Yamato was acting strangely when I talked with him at the masque. When they were whipping the man down on stage, Yamato was clearly agitated about something and he halted the masque right after I bought the man. That makes it seem like he's on our side. But when everyone was surprised by the sudden end, Masaharu supported him.

"Masaharu told me that he was getting rid of Yamato because he was too sympathetic to slaves. But, before dinner, when I was talking to him, Yamato told me that he and his father had been arguing because Masaharu thought that he had disciplined a slave too severely. It doesn't add up. One of them was lying.

"I know Yamato doesn't like Lord Yagami, but I can't be certain if that's just because he sees Yagami as an enemy, or if it's because he hates the way Yagami's reported to treat slaves. I'm certain that nine years ago, he was a sweet boy who would never want to hurt anyone, but people change. We've all changed.

"What we need to do is find out where his loyalties lie," Taichi concluded. The napkin, looking very much like his insides felt, was twisted into knots.

Koushiro smiled at him. "So, what's the plan? You _do_ have a plan, don't you?"

"Um, sort of. I was thinking about it a bit when I was in the shower and I came up with a few ideas. But, what I need to know now, is where Yamato's at. Where is he? What is he doing? Who's seen him? What and who has he seen? Because what he's already experienced of this place has to be factored into the plan."

"Actually, he hasn't seen a thing," Koushiro said, shocking Taichi and making him sit straighter in his chair.

"Really?"

"Not only that, we've kept him a secret. Only you, I, and the doctor know he's here. They dropped him off in a drugged sleep and the doctor and I thought it would be best to keep him that way until you woke up and decided what to do with him."

Taichi beamed. "You're brilliant! This makes everything much easier."

Koushiro nodded. "And, the sleep is good for him. It's helping him heal."

"Heal? What happened to him?" Taichi asked with a hint of worry. "You told me last night that he was fine."

Koushiro shrugged. "I simplified matters. If you want the full details, he has a bruise on his face, one on his arm, and more on his ribs. One of the ribs may be fractured and he has slight burn-marks on his chest that are probably from a stun blast. Between his injuries and the fact that he was sedated when he was brought to us, it seems like he came unwillingly..."

"Or that's what someone wants us to think," Taichi continued. He sighed, wishing the ache in his skull would go away. "If this turns out to be a trick, it's a really, really _sick_ one. And if it isn't... if Yamato's as kind to slaves as Masaharu suggested, then the poor guy's just been betrayed by his own father."

"Either way, Masaharu's a sick bastard who needs to be taught a lesson," Koushiro summed up, speaking Taichi's thoughts.

"Someday," Taichi vowed. "Hopefully soon, and Yamato might just help us do that," he said, brightening. "But first we still need to find out if we can trust him."

"Right," Koushiro agreed. "So, what's your plan?"

"I don't want to just interrogate him. We could never be certain that he was telling the truth. So, I was thinking earlier that we need a way to put him under stress, so he'll be more likely to act naturally and let us see what he's really like. But, we also need that form of stress to be one that doesn't hurt him."

"And you came up with a way?"

Taichi nodded and chose that moment to study a particularly interesting patch of carpet. "In addition to utilizing the normal tactic of verbal stress, which won't be enough in Yamato's case, I was thinking that we could deprive him of clothing."

"_That's_ the plan that you came up with when you were in the shower?" Koushiro asked, rising from his seat in disbelief. "You're suggesting we keep him stripped after you made such a point earlier about not thinking of him that way?" Taichi felt his cheeks color. Koushiro's face darkened as well, but it wasn't with a blush. "No. Absolutely not," the genius said flatly, and he smacked the table for emphasis.

Fighting to keep a serious face, "It's pure psychology," Taichi insisted. _With a bit of lust tossed in. _ "I can't imagine Lord Yamato being comfortably nude in front of strangers and it certainly wouldn't hurt him. It should be perfect."

"For all we know, he could be an exhibitionist," Koushiro snapped as he flopped back into his seat petulantly.

Taichi sniggered a few times before the noise broke into full-fledged laughter. Koushiro looked irked. Slowly, the brunet calmed himself, but a chuckle still escaped him every now and then. "Really, Koushiro, if you have a good reason for us not to do it, I'll listen."

He paused expectantly, but the genius remained silent. Taichi knew with certainty that Koushiro would not suggest that he couldn't control himself in the blond's presence, just as he knew that he _would_ be able to keep that control. If that was all that his friend was worried about...

"Then I've made my decision. After I've met with him as Lord Yagami and scared him a bit, you can take him to go bathe. Then after that, we just don't give him any clothes. It'll be simple. And after that, I talk with him."

"Me? Bathe Yamato?" Koushiro sputtered. "Why me?"

"Well, who else? I can't do it if I'm supposed to be a Lord, Hikari certainly can't, the doctor's busy enough as it is, and I don't want to get your folks involved in this mess. Besides, you don't have to physically bathe him. You just have to stand there and look menacing. Since you don't really like him, that shouldn't be too troublesome for you."

He checked Koushiro's expression. The frown was deepening. Familiar with the signs, Taichi could tell that his friend was about to give in. One more reason would do the trick. "And besides," he said slyly, "this will give you an opportunity to observe him and talk with him a bit."

Koushiro glared at him. "You know, you can be annoying when you're right."

Taichi smiled sweetly. _Yep, it's just like old times, only this time, I'm really hoping that the prank isn't on me. _"I'll take that as a 'yes'," he told the red-head. "And, as for some of the other details..." He glanced at Koushiro meaningfully. "Aren't you going to take notes?"

Thin-slitted eyes stared at him balefully as Koushiro stretched out an arm and slid the datapad that he had laid on the table closer within his reach. "Happy now?"

Taichi nodded cheerily. "Much better. Now, the first thing that needs to be taken care of is making one of the small suites secure. We have to strip out anything that makes it look like a room instead of a prison cell. And, we can't leave anything in there that he could hurt himself, or me, with."

"What's wrong with the cells we have now? The one he's currently in is fairly isolated."

"The cells aren't on this floor," Taichi said, like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Taichi, you are _not_ keeping him on this floor."

"I don't want to wear the mask when I'm talking to him, Koushiro. You and I both agreed that it's too risky to be without it outside of this level. And, we want to keep him a secret. No one would be able to find him, even if they were looking for a mysterious prisoner. Furthermore, he can't escape from this floor without the codes."

Koushiro glared at him, but the look was without any true malice. "If you have this all figured out, why do you even bother discussing it with me?"

Taichi smiled, knowing that he'd won again. "Well," he said smugly, "Although I'm right nearly all of the time, I'm a big enough man to admit that every once in a blue moon I make a mistake. I tell you my plans because you're usually good at spotting potential errors."

Koushiro groaned and rolled his eyes. "You really know how to flatter a guy, don't you," he observed with irony. "All right. What else?"

"I've been debating whether or not it would be better to put a collar on him. This is, actually, something I'd value your input on."

Koushiro thought for a moment. "I don't like the collars any more than you do  their only purpose is to provide pain. But I'd rather not try to get him to take a bath without one."

Taichi nodded unhappily. "That's what I was thinking too. Transporting him when he's awake would be easier if he's wearing a collar. Safer, actually, too, because he probably won't try to run. If he runs, a blast through the collar is a gentler deterrent than if we stopped him with a different type of force."

"But once he's in his rooms," Koushiro said thoughtfully, "Yamato doesn't have any place to go. So theoretically, once he's situated there, the collar could be removed. You could make the point that you don't need to use the collar because there's no place for him to run to."

"Good idea. I'll do that. If he's a spy, we'll look confident. And if he's not, he won't be paranoid about pain attacks. So, let's keep him asleep until the suite is done, then collar him and transfer him to the rooms and let him wake up there on his own."

Koushiro nodded. "Okay. I'll take care of it. Anything else?"

"We should take off the door to the bathroom." Taichi's eyes wandered over the dirty dishes. "And, I want him to be dependent on me for food, but see to it that the water from the bathroom sink is drinkable and that he can't take apart the faucet easily."

"I think I can manage both of those. Anything else?"

"No, I "

"Taichi!" his younger sister's voice called from the door.

Taichi stood and gave Hikari a big hug when she ran up to him. "Hi, sis," he greeted, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

"I tried calling you at your room and then I tried your mask, but you didn't respond, so I figured you must be eating." She pulled back to take a better look at him. "Are you feeling better? Koushiro said you were really tired when you returned from your trip."

Taichi glanced over at Koushiro then back down at his sister. "I'm feeling great," he said firmly. "I just needed to rest a bit. You know me," he joked, "give me rest and give me food and I can survive anything."

Hikari chuckled. Out of the corner of his eye, Taichi spotted Koushiro leaving.

"Oh, hey!" Taichi called out, hoping to catch the genius' attention before he left the room. The body in the doorway paused, listening. "Don't forget to set the thermostat higher in those rooms. We wouldn't want our blanket-less guest to catch cold," he said with a smile. "I'll send you a message if I think of anything else."

"Okay. I'll remember," Koushiro called over his shoulder.

"Taichi?" Hikari tapped on his arm, drawing his attention away from thoughts of Yamato. "What was that all about? We have a guest?"

Taichi debated on how much to tell her. Hikari was sixteen  old enough to understand anything he explained to her  and she was familiar with his work with the slaves... but beyond that, she was still his sweet, innocent little sister. He didn't want to involve her in this potentially dangerous game that all revolved around trust.

"A Lord will be visiting with us for about a month," he told her, hoping it wouldn't take longer than that to establish Yamato's guilt or innocence. "So he won't interfere with the normal operation of the fortress, I'm keeping him confined to this floor. Because of that, I don't want you coming to this level for the duration of the time he's with us."

"He's dangerous?" Hikari asked. A worried frown creased her brow.

Taichi shook his head. "Not exactly. You don't have to worry about my safety." _I hope._ "But the only people I want him having contact with are myself and Koushiro. It makes things simpler that way. I won't be able to spend as much time with you as I usually do, but what I'm doing is really important."

"That's okay. I understand," she said.

Taichi eyed her with suspicion. Hikari rarely gave up a mystery easily.

"What?" she questioned innocently. "I'll be too busy to be poking around here if you give me permission to help out with the newest batch of slaves. The doctor said I was really useful last time and that I could help again if you agreed. So can I, please? We always need more hands than we've got."

Although his first instinct was to say no, Taichi was unable to deny his sister anything that she begged for, as long as it wasn't dangerous. Which explained why his sister had a nearly extinct species of feline for a pet. And while dealing with newly freed slaves _was_ sometimes dangerous, most of the time it was not and Taichi could trust the doctor to know what was too much for her to handle.

He relented. "All right, all right. Quit looking at me like that. You can help out as long as you promise to follow the doctor's orders _and_ no matter what he says, you can only help out with the children, the women, and the really old ones." There was no way he was going to let his precious baby sister come in contact with strange men.

"Okay, I promise. Thank you, Taichi." She stretched up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll go tell him right now."

Taichi watched her scamper out the door, then went about gathering the dishes from the table and setting them on the cart to be taken out later. Once in his room, Taichi sat down at his desk and began preparing for Lord Yagami's meeting with Yamato.

_Let's see. First off, I'll have to remember to tell Koushiro to set up one of the larger rooms with an impressive throne..._

Long into the night, thoughts poured out into the datapad. By the time his fingers could move no more, Taichi had a plan. Despite what he had told Koushiro, he would have to ask the doctor for his help if he wanted to make sure Yamato remained mostly unharmed. The genius just wasn't strong enough and he doubted that he could accurately read a person's pulse.

_In the morning, I'll have to ask the doctor just how strictly he insists on keeping his oath to do no harm._

***

Yamato moaned in pain when he attempted to sit up. He gave the motion up quickly and let his body go limp. Moving would be torture until he had healed.

From his vantage point on the uncomfortable mattress in the corner, Yamato could tell that he was no longer in his father's fortress. Aside from the thick-looking green carpet, the room was bare, containing only the large mattress itself. What appeared to be a washroom could be seen through an open archway. The only other feature of the window-less room was a door that was almost certainly locked.

Shakily, he brought his hand up to touch his neck and encountered the collar that he had been expecting.

_So it's true. I've been sold._

Part of him wanted to cry in anguish, part of him wanted to howl with rage, part of him wanted to curl into a ball so tight that he disappeared from the face of the earth. But he did none of these things  at least not intentionally. He couldn't stop the tears that forced themselves out against his permission, but he wiped them roughly off his cheeks. Crying would make him seem weak. Appearing weak would be dangerous.

Everything would be more dangerous, now that he was a slave.

_But I guess it could be worse. I could be chained naked to a wall. There could be someone here wanting to fuck me mercilessly..._

He refused to let his thoughts turn down that path. If that was to be his fate, it would happen soon enough without him imagining the torture first. Besides, there was still the possibility that his father had lied about selling him to Lord Yagami. In fact, the mattress and the lack of chains suggested otherwise.

His senses prickled as he heard noises outside the door. His heart raced. A bowl was shoved through a flap at the bottom of the door.

_Food? I am hungry, but can I get to it?_

He tried sitting up again and this time he succeeded. With difficulty, he managed to crawl on the floor to his goal, taking a slow pace because of the dizzying after-effects of whatever they'd kept him drugged with. Surprisingly, the carpet was as soft as it had appeared to be. However, judging from the contents of the bowl, the carpet would be his only luxury.

The plastic bowl contained a watery gruel. Although Yamato knew he should be starving, he wasn't. He forced himself to finish it, though, because sooner or later he would have to deal with his captors. Facing them on an empty stomach didn't sound like a good idea. But even though the meal was unappetizing, at least he knew they weren't trying to poison him. If they had been, they would have made the slop taste better.

Feeling stronger and with his head feeling less fuzzy, Yamato tested standing. When that experiment worked without any severe protests from his aching torso, he walked into the bathroom, taking note of the holes in the frame from where hinges had been.

_There was a door here not long ago. And I'll bet those holes on the wall over the sink were for a mirror. And when the presence of the carpet is added in... Somebody made this room a lot plainer than it used to be. But why would they do that for me? Why not just stick me in a cell?_

He couldn't come up with an answer.

Yamato washed his hands and splashed water on his face before returning to the mattress in the corner of the other room.

_Now what do I do?_

He didn't have to wonder about entertaining himself for very long before there was more movement outside the door to his room. The door opened and a very large man dressed in a scant amount of black leather strode into the room.

"Get up," his deep voice ordered. "The Master wants to see you now."

Out of sheer panic, Yamato scooted deeper into the corner and away from the advancing figure.

The man grunted. "Fine. Have it your way." He fiddled with the watch on his wrist.

Excruciating pain traveled in waves down Yamato's body. He bit his lip, not wanting to give the man the pleasure of hearing him cry out.

"Hurts, don't it?" the man smirked, the improper grammar betraying his lack of education. "That's the _lowest_ setting. Don't make me use it again," he said. The pain stopped after another sequence of keys on the control watch were pressed. "On your feet, slave."

Yamato tried to obey, but reality was settling down around him much too quickly. Waking up in an unfamiliar room with a slave collar around his neck  that he could handle. But, cowering before the hulking Slavemaster who wanted to take him to see his owner, his brain refused to respond. He clutched his arms protectively about himself.

The man caught the defensive motion. "What, don't tell me those scrapes on your sides are hurting you to the point where you can't walk," he taunted. Yamato's arm was gripped roughly by the large, smooth hands. "On your feet, or else I'll really give you something to whimper about."

The words, the touch, and the disgust that they both caused sparked something inside of him. Rage seethed up, cold, raw, and unfettered, and he threw the man a look that would freeze lava. His arm was released. Like it had been waiting on its metaphorical shelf for him to think of it, his stone mask slipped into place. Calmer, feeling centered now that he had a filter between him and the world, his muscles obeyed the command to stand.

"Take me to see _your_ Master," he ordered as if it had been his idea to begin with.

The burly man quirked the side of his mouth up into a grin. "This way, lad. The Lord's going to _love_ your spirit."

***

The journey to the Lord's audience chamber was shorter than Yamato had expected. The room was smaller too, but he refrained from making any comment when he saw the occupant of the throne upon the low dais. The carpet, the lack of truly harsh treatment... all the little conveniences had added up to suggest that his father had lied about the identity of his purchaser. But, for perhaps once in his life, Masaharu had told his son the straight truth. Sitting solidly, clothed in a mass of black robes, and hiding behind his ever-present mask, was Lord Yagami.

It was harder to draw in air. His pace along the dark tiled floor became slower and less steady. The certainty that he could manipulate the situation crumbled further with every step that he was forced to take closer to the one man that he truly feared. The same panic that was eroding his calm mask flooded his veins and drowned his thoughts.

_He's expecting me to be weak. He knows I'm afraid. I can't act like he's already won. I have to act tough. _

Finally standing just a few feet away from the raised platform, he ordered his mouth to say something snotty. Years of practice finally kicked in. He licked dry lips.

"You know, I always imagined your throne room to be bigger  compensation for what you obviously lack in other areas."

The taunt hung in the air and Yamato wondered if the Lord had heard him through the mask covering his head. For even when the synthesized voice spoke, it ignored Yamato's comment completely.

"You should have taken me up on my offer when you had the chance, Yamato. Now we do things my way." The Lord began to interlace and unlace his gloved fingers rhythmically. "Kneel."

Weight from heavy arms pressing down on his shoulders forced him to his knees. When he struggled to rise, a single hand at the base of his neck kept him in place.

"Remove the slave's shirt," Lord Yagami ordered.

Keeping the one hand where it was, the Slavemaster grasped the back of Yamato's collar and ripped the fabric off his frame, choking him momentarily before the shirt submitted and let itself be torn.

"Your skin is such a beautiful work of art," the masked man murmured.

Yamato shivered, not just from the sudden cold. The comment would have been almost flattering if not for the fact that Yamato knew he had multi-colored bruises on his torso and it was these marks that the Lord was referring to. Lord Yagami found his beaten body appealing.

Hatred.

Some of the fear that had held him mute was pushed back by hatred. He _hated_ Lord Yagami for being a sick, abusive bastard. The Lord had always seemed too friendly... too interested in him. He'd never touched him sexually in the past, but Yamato would have sworn that the older man had wanted to.

"Release me, this instant," Yamato insisted.

The Lord laughed. "You are no longer in any position to make demands. You breathe because I desire it to be so." He rested his attention on something above and behind Yamato. "Slavemaster, demonstrate."

A large hand crushed against his face and pulled him back against a solid wall of muscle. Yamato flailed his arms behind him wildly, hoping to strike his attacker, but his struggles were ineffective. The Slavemaster still held one hand over his face and one on his neck, and because of the angle, Yamato's arms beat with decreasing strength against the man's sides. Kicking with his feet and clawing at the hands holding him also proved useless.

He felt his pulse thunder in his skull. Dark stars ate away at the edges of his vision. Oblivion would come soon.

"Enough. Release him. My point has been made."

The Slavemaster pushed him roughly away and Yamato fell to his hands and knees, gasping for air.

"Now, don't you look the image of the panting slut? Straighten up and kneel prettily for me, my little doll."

The words upset him, but he didn't have the strength to respond. Muscular arms hauled him upright and once again retained a firm grip on his neck. Briefly, Yamato felt a twisted sense of gratitude that he had been forced to kneel  he knew his legs wouldn't have been able to support him otherwise.

"Yes," Lord Yagami continued, musing to himself. "I believe that word suits you perfectly. _Doll_. Although it is customary to allow slaves to keep their given name, you are such an exceptional case that I feel justified in shirking tradition. Besides, 'Yamato' is a Lord's name. To call you as such sullies the very image of Lordship."

"Go to hell, Yagami," Yamato hissed. "You're a disgrace to humanity."

"No, that name doesn't suit you at all," the Lord continued on, as if Yamato had not spoken. "You are, however, very pretty and as your skin is almost like porcelain, I'll name you Ningyou. But I should point out that the people who will be playing with you are neither little, nor are they female." The Lord stood. "You are _my_ slave, Ningyou. My _personal_ slave."

There was no denying the meaning behind his words. Yamato was sickened by the idea of being made to submit and share the Lord's bed. And something else the man had said stuck in his mind, something that made his stomach churn violently. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't quell the stutter in his words. "W-What do you mean by _playing_?"

"Oh, I'm sure you can imagine what I mean. You have heard the rumors, after all, and I plan to make sure I get my money's worth out of you. The female bitches break too easily," the masked man remarked casually. "It doesn't stop me from using them, of course, but it makes me appreciate the toys that can stand up to all the rough usage I give them." The Lord took a step closer to the edge of the dais. "I am going to very much enjoy the time I spend playing with you, Ningyou. Once you have learned the pleasures of serving me, you'll enjoy our playtime together too."

Without preamble, Yamato vomited up the mush he'd eaten earlier.

Lord Yagami was down from the dais and had his hand out to strike him when, for some reason, the robed man pulled back suddenly and straightened. "Clean that mess up," the Lord growled instead. He spun on his heal and returned to his seat while Yamato focused on dealing with the dry heaves that shook his body. "And someone come and take my new doll to be bathed. It's gotten itself dirty."

Forcing himself to ignore his stomach for a moment, Yamato fixed a look of hatred on the Lord. "I will _never_ serve you!" Yet the moment the words were out of his mouth, his confidence drained. Yamato shrunk back fearfully against the Slavemaster's solid presence.

Lord Yagami chuckled and settled more comfortably into his throne, propping his masked head on one fist. "Hmmm.... Your spirit amuses me. I'm in a lenient mood today. I don't know about the _never_, but I might be able to grant your request while still getting what I desire."

It was getting difficult to think. Residual acid was burning his throat. Panic and confusion hammered on his brain. "What?! What do you mean? I didn't make any request!"

The Lord chuckled. "The idea of me playing with you repulses you, does it not? So, clearly, your request was that I find someone else to play with you."

Yamato didn't know whether to feel relieved or even more terrified.

_Why would he be doing this? **Anybody** other than Lord Yagami would be better, right? Nobody could possibly be **worse**, could they?_

His curiosity stimulated, Yamato struggled away from the Slavemaster as far as he was permitted and resumed glaring at Lord Yagami.

"I think I might have the perfect plan. Yes... I think this is for the best. This little display that you've put on has shown me that you're not _worthy_ to serve me. You require a bit of preliminary training before I can enjoy you to the fullest." He nodded, as if coming to a decision. "Instead of coming straight to my playroom, you, Ningyou, will first have the pleasure of serving my young protégé. He has been doing an exceptional job for me over the years."

"What, and you think I'll be a fitting reward?" Yamato spit back.

"On the contrary," Lord Yagami chuckled. "I think you'll make his life a living hell. The loss of his constant assistance, however, is a sacrifice I am quite willing to make. For although you may be unworthy of my direct attention at the moment, Ningyou, I hope to have you by my side in the future. Only a man of exceptional quality, like my protégé, will be able to teach you your new place in life. And without a doubt, you're living by my rules now." The Lord shifted his attention to the door behind him.

Feeling frozen from his skin to the marrow of his bones, Yamato gave no protest when an annoyed-looking red-head with a control watch ushered him toward the bathing room.

***

_Lord Takeru... _

Takeru groaned and rolled over, pulling the pillow up to cover his head.

"Lord Takeru." The harsh whisper finally jolted him awake. "Lord, you must make haste to get ready."

Takeru scowled. "Why?" he demanded to know. "I've told you not to wake me when I'm sleeping in late. Why have you disobeyed me? Speak quickly before I decide to punish you."

The servant gulped and ducked his head in a bow. "I am very sorry that I was not able to obey your order, Lord Takeru. But, Lord, your honored father has come unexpectedly to see you. He says that you must be ready to leave this place permanently within the hour. We must dress you quickly and you must give your orders on what is to be packed."

Takeru blinked. He had dreamed that his father had come for him often enough. Was he still dreaming?

"I'm really leaving?"

The servant bowed again. "Yes, Lord. Very soon now."

Like he was sleepwalking, Takeru let the servant dress him, participating even less in the process than usual.

In the end, there had not been very much to pack. His files and favorite programs could be transmitted easily. The only unique item he cared to take with him was the photo he had of his mother.

The picture had been carefully tucked away inside his favorite hat and before he realized what was happening, Takeru was looking out the window of the transport bound for his father's fortress. The trip passed quickly.

Soon, one servant took his belongings to put away. Another led him down the maze-like corridors of the fortress. If it were not for the servant, Takeru would have soon become lost. In one large room that they passed through, there was a young boy chained to the wall. He looked very uncomfortable. Takeru wanted to ask the servant about the boy, who surely was a slave, but the servant politely ignored him and silently conducted him to his father's throne room.

Masaharu did not rise when Takeru stopped before him. Childishly, Takeru wanted to leap up onto the dais, run to his father, and give him a hug. He resisted the urge though, knowing his father would strongly disapprove.

Takeru bowed. "Greetings, Lord Father."

His father smiled charmingly. "Hello, my son. You've grown since I've seen you last. How old are you now?"

"I'm sixteen years old, Lord," Takeru told him proudly.

"Good, good. And tell me, Takeru, what do you think of me? Do you love me?"

Takeru was shocked. Why was his father asking him such a question? "Of course I love you, Lord. More than anyone else."

"Excellent."

"Forgive me, father, but why are you asking me such a thing?"

His father frowned. "Your older brother forgot his loyalties. I have stripped him of his rank and he is no longer living here. By my questioning, I was merely checking to see that you have remained as sweet as I have remembered you." Masaharu smiled at him. "I am glad to see that you have."

Takeru was happy. Not only was his father pleased to see him, but his horrible older brother was gone forever and he'd never even have to meet him. Takeru had been dreading meeting Yamato the entire trip over. With all the things his father had told him about his brother, Takeru doubted that they'd ever be able to get along.

Now that Yamato was gone, Takeru could be the favorite.

Masaharu stepped down from the dais and wrapped his arm around Takeru's shoulder. "Let me give you the tour of your new home, my son."

Takeru snuggled close to his father's side.

Life was good.

***

After a highly embarrassing walk from the baths to his "cell," Yamato was shoved into his room and the door was locked behind him. Cold and naked, he stalked to his mattress, relying on his anger to keep him warm. Although his room was much warmer than the bathing room or the corridors, he was still cold.

_Stupid brat, protégé._

The man was a little short for a High Lord in-training, but what he lacked in height he made up in cruelty. The cold shower and bath had not been pleasant and the red-head had refused to give him any privacy. Furthermore, the little snot had been scowling and pissy, refusing to talk to Yamato except to barrage him with questions. The only time he had spoken a non-interrogative sentence was just as he was shoving him through the door. His snobbish voice saying "Just wait until later," echoed through Yamato's mind.

_He's probably pissy 'cause I'm bigger than he is... In a lot of ways._

Still, the situation was no laughing matter. As a slave, Yamato had no rights and having a master with an inferiority complex could be very painful  those types tended to be sadistic.

But at least for now he was being left alone.

Chilled and weary, Yamato did the only thing that he could. He closed his eyes, willed himself back to sleep, and hoped that when he awakened again, the events that he remembered would all be just a bad dream.

***

Much later, when he returned to the waking world, for a brief moment Yamato thought his wish had come true. Gentle hands were massaging his back and the pungent scent of medicinal cream tickled his nose. But then he opened his eyes and saw the same awful green carpet and bare walls.

The hands lifted away and Yamato shut his eyes tightly, hoping that the person would leave. He waited to hear the sound of footsteps moving away, but there was only the sound of their breathing.

"Come on, now. I saw you looking around," a warm male voice chided. "Now that you're awake, flip over so I can do your chest. I was told it's in much worse shape than your back. You know, you really shouldn't have been sleeping on it in the first place."

Yamato craned his neck around and peeked at the stranger. He was dressed in a long-sleeved navy-blue uniform. The crisply pressed clothing clashed with his broad smile, impish eyes, and unruly brown hair.

The man waggled a jar of cream for Yamato to see. "It'll help numb the pain," he tempted. The man's other hand was busy too.

Yamato flushed and fought the pressure from the soft fingers on his hip that was urging him to roll over. Yamato knew it was silly to worry about his state of dress in the presence of a medic, but the lack of any clothing was uncomfortable.

"Don't I get any clothes?" he asked in what he hoped wasn't a panicked voice.

"While you are in service to Lord Yagami, your position does not require clothing," the other explained calmly, then shrugged. "You might as well get used to it now." Their eyes met. "I promise to behave myself, so flip over and let me rub this on your chest."

_Quit being silly,_ Yamato told himself firmly. _It's just a medic. He won't hurt you. Just do it. If he was going to do something unpleasant to you, he would've done it already. Right?_

Yamato gulped back his pride and uncertainties and did as he was asked.

"There we go." The brown-haired man beamed at him. "Let me know if I'm hurting you."

Still feeling exposed and vulnerable, Yamato merely nodded. The cream was cool, but quickly warmed against his skin, leaving behind a tingling sensation after it had been absorbed. After a period of studying the man tending to him, Yamato closed his eyes while the other worked  the medic was just a little too attractive and in his unclothed state, any sort of reaction would be immediately noticeable.

While he was focusing on not enjoying the touch too much, the man's fingers pressed too hard on a sensitive rib. Yamato twitched, but stayed silent. Fingertips swirled the cream around more, then brushed over the area again. Rather than cry out in pain, he bit down on his lip.

"Did that hurt?" Fingers pressed on the spot again and Yamato winced.

"Just a bit," he admitted, daring to look up.

Brown eyes peered down at him. "I told you to let me know if I was hurting you," the medic said seriously.

Yamato shook his head. "You're just trying to help. Don't concern yourself with it." _I'm sure that red-headed monster will make me suffer much worse. Why are they even bothering to treat my bruises anyway?_

That was an idea worth pursuing. Yamato chewed his lip some more before deciding to speak his mind. "Not to sound ungrateful, but, are you sure you're supposed to be in here? I wouldn't want you to get in trouble for helping me."

There was silence for a moment and the medic's hands stilled. "You're concerned for me..." he softly realized aloud. "Thank you." A grin flashed over his features. "But you have no need to worry. I'm right where I should be."

Yamato smiled up at him. "I'm glad." Then his eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "But it's strange, too. I had no idea the Lord would want me treated by a medic."

Taichi's brown eyes widened briefly. "You're probably right about that, since he didn't send one. Sit up for me. I need to wrap the bandage."

Yamato complied and the white gauze was wrapped around his torso.

Again, Yamato tried not to pay too much attention now that the smiling brunet was so close to him. But when he looked down, he noticed that the movements had caused the man's sleeve to ride up his arm, exposing a painfully familiar device wrapped around the man's wrist.

Yamato's whole body tensed. "That's a control watch," he said slowly. "You can't be a slave. Who are you?"

There was a flash of something, but the emotion was wiped from Taichi's face before Yamato could analyze what it was. "My name is Taichi. Lord Yagami's ordered me to teach you your place here."

Yamato shook his head slowly in disbelief. This meant that the red-head was just a... "_You're_ the one who's in charge of me? And you're a Lord?" The non-medic-turned-Lord nodded. "And your name is Taichi?" Again, Lord Taichi mutely nodded. Yamato didn't know which surprised him more  that the kind man was claiming to be the cruel Lord's protégé or that the man was using the Lord's dead son's name. "_Taichi_ is Yagami's son's name and he's _dead_. I'm not a fool, so quit lying to me."

"I'm not lying." The Lord looked at him sharply, but his voice was steady. "You met Lord Yagami's son?" he queried.

Yamato paused to think. "No. I never did. He never came to the fortress and I rarely left the island. But that still doesn't explain who you are."

"I was born a year after the High Lord's son" the brunet answered. "That name was highly popular back at that time. It was just a coincidence that the High Lord happened to latch onto me after he died."

"So were you friends?" Oddly enough, Yamato wanted to know more about this unusual man that was his captor. He supposed the story about the name was plausible enough.

Taichi gave a small smile. "I guess you could say that. It's difficult for a Lord to keep friends."

Yamato nodded, thinking he understood. "My father didn't allow me to have friends either."

They looked at each other as the silence stretched. Both of them had said too much.

Taichi was the first to speak. "So, since we're getting to know each other better, it might help if I knew what to call you. What's your name?"

Yamato wasn't sure if this was a trick question or not. Lord Yagami had told him that he was now to be called 'Ningyou.' Was that the answer that Taichi was expecting? The wild brown hair and sparkling brown eyes made the strange man seem much too friendly and of too good a humor to be the favorite of Lord Yagami.

_But_, his mind cautioned,_ it's the ones that look the kindest that you have to look out for. Any Lord who tries to be your friend here only wants something from you._ But still, maybe if he didn't fight or act rebellious, the man would continue to be gentle with him.

"Surely, you have a name?" Taichi prompted, pulling Yamato from his thoughts.

"I am called Ningyou," he said while looking at the carpet. Yamato shuddered, hating the word coming from his lips.

"Ah," Lord Taichi acknowledged. "Then, my Lord has already named you." Yamato looked up, wanting to see what this man thought of the dehumanizing name. "That's too bad," he said. "I would have chosen to call you something much different."

Although Yamato could see desire in the brown eyes, the Lord wasn't leering at him. That small fact made him feel more secure.

"You know, Ningyou," Taichi continued, looking at him intently from where he sat on the mattress, "We might be able to make this an easier situation for you. If you had information to offer or something else..." His gaze dropped to the blond's uncovered lap before returning to meet Yamato's eyes. "..._equally valuable_... you might be rewarded."

The security that had comforted him just moments ago evaporated in a flash, boiled off by rage. He didn't care that he was in a strange fortress, he didn't care that he was without clothing, he just wanted out of that room.

"Bastard!" he hissed. Yamato shoved the Lord squarely in the chest, sending him to the carpet. He had taken no more than a few scrambled steps toward the door when a hand gripped his ankle and he went sprawling to the ground.

The pain caused by falling on his bruised chest was terrible and even though Yamato knew that he needed to move to defend himself, all he could do was wrap his arms about his ribs and whimper.

Taichi was standing over him in a second.

"Please..." Yamato moved one hand protectively to his throat, as if flesh could block the signal to the necklace that would send him pain. "Don't..." He hated how he whimpered the words. "Please don't..." He hated how he was cowering and begging. But he couldn't take any more pain. "Please. It hurts so badly already."

When he finally looked at his captor, Taichi's brow was creased with worry. The brunet sank to his knees, reaching out for Yamato. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean" He cut himself off, but the words had come so quickly from the brunet's mouth that their sincerity couldn't be doubted. Brown eyes widened, then squeezed shut, and Taichi turned away to face the wall.

Yamato stared up at his broad back, unsure of what was going on. _He apologized? Why won't he look at me?_

When the Lord finally turned back around, there was no trace of emotion left in his face. "Come on," he uttered tonelessly. "Back to the bed. You wouldn't like it out there, anyway."

Yamato hesitated. He couldn't fully believe that Taichi wouldn't punish him.

Instead of causing more pain, Taichi lifted him and deposited him on the mattress. Yamato huddled himself into the corner the moment he was free.

"Hold still, Ningyou," Taichi ordered. "You've knocked your bandage loose." Yamato felt the man's hands on his back and shied away from the touch, shrinking farther into the corner. The man repeated himself, and although it was still an irritated order, for some reason, he didn't raise his voice. "I said _hold still_."

Yamato obeyed, but it was more because of a lack of unoccupied corner than out of any real will or desire to obey. As the Lord fixed the bandage, Yamato talked to fill the silence, hoping to appease the Lord by answering his original question.

"I know nothing. My father was too much of a control freak to let me know anything of true importance. I've been confined to the fortress for almost every moment of my life. If anything, I know my father and I know that he would have seen to it that any codes to the fortress that I knew were changed within ten minutes of him knocking me unconscious." He looked away from the Lord. "As for anything else valuable"

The Lord cut him off. "As for anything else, you've already made your decision." Softly, he turned Yamato's head so that they were looking at each other. "I know it's a poor excuse, but I was required to offer you that option. I wouldn't have done so otherwise." He studied the carpet. "I'm not permitted to apologize for causing you further injury, especially when you were trying to escape, but..." He looked deeply into blue eyes.

"But," Yamato repeated in agreement, accepting that single word for the apology that it was supposed to be.

Taichi knelt on the floor at the edge of the mattress.

"How is it that you're Yagami's protégé?" Yamato asked, moving away from the corner.

"I haven't thought about it much. It just sort of happened after _he_ died. I guess that I wanted to be like Yagami, that I liked his power and the respect that people give him."

"What kind of powerful man needs to use the threat of pain to keep people under control? And how can people truly give respect if they're under control?" Yamato was expecting a cuff for that remark, but he glared into the brown eyes, determined not to flinch.

"You have a point. Turn over." The Lord simply stared at him when Yamato didn't move. "If I was going to hurt you, I would have done so already."

Hesitantly, Yamato obeyed. One hand was threaded through his hair, holding it away from his skin. The collar pressed into his neck while the Lord fiddled with it. Moments later, the hinged halves sprang apart. Yamato craned his neck around and watched as Taichi took off the collar and snapped it shut again on empty air.

"You removed it," the blond said disbelievingly. "Even after I tried to attack you... Why?"

Taichi was smiling softly at him. "Like I said, you had a point," he answered slowly. "There are other ways besides inflicting pain that will get me what I want."

"What is it that you want from me?" Yamato whispered.

"The same thing that my Master wants. I want you to learn the way of life around here. I want you to be comfortable here, to feel like you belong."

"You want me to submit." Yamato refused to let himself feel pain as his hope that Taichi was truly kind died. It was a foolish thing to believe anyways. "I already said no. You're worse than he is. You've been kind and gentle with me, but the whole while you've been setting me up to defeat myself. You're worse than vile. I'll never le"

Taichi moved to sit on the edge of the mattress and his finger hovered over Yamato's lips without touching them. Yamato fell silent.

"There are other ways that you could fit in here." the Lord said, tracing the air just millimeters over Yamato's lips. "I doubt even Lord Yagami has realized them all. But I can see that you have great potential."

Yamato turned his head aside. The movement caused the finger to brush against his face, leaving a burning ache in its path. He pushed the feeling aside. "I won't let you take advantage of me," Yamato said fiercely. "Now, back off." If Taichi came any closer, Yamato would attack him again, despite the pain. He was in no condition to fight off the bulkier man, but at least he would give it his best try.

But there was no need for Yamato to put his bravery to the test. Without argument, Taichi scooted backwards off the mattress, putting the most distance between them since Yamato had awoken. "I wouldn't want it to be that way."

Since Taichi had accepted that boundary, Yamato felt a bit bolder and he voiced the question that had been bothering him since early this morning. "Why aren't I in a cell?"

"Although I am to teach you the ways of this fortress, Lord Yagami still requires me to fulfill all of my duties," Taichi answered. "Therefore, he has created a special set of rooms to keep you in that are close to my own."

"There's more than one room?" Yamato asked, surprised.

"I'll be showing you the other one later." For a brief moment Yamato was scared. He didn't want to think about what was in that other room. It must have shown on his face, for Taichi continued, "Don't worry, it's nothing bad. Lord Yagami merely agreed with my suggestion that you would be more appealing if you had access to weights and books. Lord Yagami likes to see his slaves strong in both body and mind. He likes them to have spirit in their fight. He says that they're more fun that way."

Images of unwilling bed-partners cowering before the dark-cloaked Lord conjured in his head. "Yeah, I'll bet he does," Yamato said bitterly.

Taichi reached forward and stroked a lock of hair out of Yamato's eyes. The blond flinched away, but Taichi kept the contact. "Hey," he said huskily. "Don't worry about him. I know it might not be much comfort, but you're exclusively mine until your training's complete. And I can stretch it out for a while."

As Taichi's hand caressed the side of his face, Yamato found that thinking was becoming more difficult with each passing second. He knew he should be upset, repulsed, angry. He knew that he should hate that his captor was making him feel this way, but... "You've never hurt me," he murmured half to himself. "You've always been gentle." Their eyes met and they moved closer together. "If it was you, I..." The words trailed off as Yamato became unsure of what exactly he was offering.

"Ningyou" Taichi began, but he stopped himself and sighed. "Enough of this. It's silly," he muttered.

Yamato's eyes widened at the hurtful words. "Fine then," he said quickly, jerking his head away from the soft hand. "Quit being nice. Just do whatever you're going to do already." He cursed himself for trembling.

The hand rested on his shoulder, warm against his skin, chasing the shiver away. "That's not what I meant. You didn't let me finish," Taichi whispered. "For all your beauty, you're not a doll. It's silly to call you that. I want to know your real name."

The hand returned to tracing the features of his face. "Yamato," the blond found himself saying quietly.

"Hn," Taichi smiled. "It's still not what I would call you, but it'll do."

"What would you call me?" Yamato asked, curious now that the Lord had said it twice.

The brunet shook his head. "It doesn't matter now. Ask me again, some other time. Right now, I think you've had a long day. You should rest and heal." Taichi leaned closer. "Goodnight..." His kiss, a fluttering brush against Yamato's cheek, offered warmth and claimed nothing in return. "...Yamato."

Seconds later, the door was closed and locked. Sitting on the mattress, Yamato let his head fall back against the wall for support.

_Taichi... He kissed me, called me by my name, and left? Taichi kissed me on the cheek and left._

_ It doesn't make sense. I know I shouldn't trust him. I can't trust him, but..._

_ He wants me, yet, even though he had the opportunity, he didn't try to take me._

_ It could all just be a sick, twisted game to get close to me, in order to hurt me later on._

_ But his touches felt so genuine. He didn't seem like a monstrous person who was pretending to be kind. It was almost like he cared and was trying to stop himself from revealing too much. _

_ But he can't care about me. No one does. He doesn't even know me. It's impossible. _

Logic was telling him that it was a trap. Self-preservation urged him to make a plan, to scheme, to think of a way to take advantage of the situation. His tingling ribs tried to lull him to sleep. And when he lay back on the mattress, it was with that last intent that he closed his eyes  only to see a face with sparkling brown eyes smiling back at him from the inside of his mind.

_Taichi..._

For hours, try as he might to let his weary body lapse back into sleep, Yamato couldn't tear his thoughts away from the memory of warm, gentle lips brushing against his cheek.


	3. Crumbling

Racing. Pounding. Thumping. The beating of Taichi's heart was too much for him to handle. After locking the door to Yamato's room and switching off the light, Taichi dropped shakily to the floor. His knees were no longer strong enough to support him.

_I can't believe I just kissed him._

He hadn't meant to do that. He'd promised Koushiro that he wouldn't let his emotions interfere with his judgement. Yet kissing Yamato had felt so right. Taichi let his head cradle in his hands for a moment as he allowed himself the luxury of reliving the taste and feel of Yamato's skin. True, Yamato had been scared. Yet beneath that emotion, there seemed to be... Yearning? Acceptance? Desire? It was as if the blond entertained feelings that matched his own.

_But why?_

Although Yamato had called him on his name's similarity and had seemed to accept Taichi's explanation, there was no other sign of recognition.

_He doesn't remember me. It's like that day in the storage room never happened. _

Taichi didn't know whether or not to be relieved. It was the one part of this plan that everything hinged on. Would Yamato remember him? Apparently not. Regardless that it was probably better off that the man had forgotten him, Taichi felt his heart sink just a tiny bit.

_It shouldn't be like this. I should march back in there and tell him everything._

But he couldn't. Although Yamato had acted exactly as if he were a victim in all of this, Koushiro did have a point in saying that keeping up an act for such a short time would be simple.

_But when he thought I was a slave, he acted kindly... not even complaining when I caused him pain while treating his injuries. Surely that counts for something?_

Maybe after tomorrow he could tell him the truth. If everything was still going smoothly, there was no point in dragging out the lie.

Feeling more tired now than he had been in a long while, Taichi returned to his room.

A blinking light on the machine signaled that a message was waiting for him. He pushed the button and Koushiro's recorded voice spoke, "Hey, Taichi. The Council of Lords came looking for me since they couldn't find you and you've been skipping out on their meetings. I informed them that you were busy with a top-secret project, but they insisted that there are several plans that need your approval before they can be finalized. If you quit playing with Yamato before you've exhausted yourself, you can check the files I uploaded to the 'Urgent' directory on your computer. Have a nice night."

After the initial bout of irritation at Koushiro, Taichi spent a long moment feeling properly guilty for neglecting his duties. Not only was he the High Lord for the entire island, he was the High Lord that protected a territory operating on the slightest levels of slavery possible. He really didn't have the time to be getting distracted.

Scrolling through the pages, he was pleased to see that the new crops were doing well. In Japan, as in most places, the land was polluted and it was very difficult to cleanse and keep pure. Water, on the other hand, was everywhere and very easy to clean and monitor for purity. Taichi's lands, although they extended over only one-eighth of Japan, provided food for three-quarters of the country's population. It was the strong hydroponics and artificial light technology that brought power and wealth to his family, his grandfather passing on the secret to Taichi's father only. His uncle, Lord Motomiya, had only gotten control of land by marriage to Jun and Daisuke's mother. Taichi sighed. Jun he could do without, but he missed his cousin, Daisuke, like a younger brother.

He forced his mind back to reading the proposed plans. Four of them he could approve with little hesitation. The fifth, however, required a careful decision. The plant managers wanted to put another subterranean 'ponics bay beneath the Miyazaki land. The controversy over the bay's placement stemmed from the fact that above ground, the Miyazaki land was a wildlife preserve. Yet, the location of the land in question was ideal and the bays themselves caused no surface disruptions. Knowing that the locations of the bays were chosen as much for secrecy as anything else, Taichi authorized the bay's construction. It would be the perfect concealed spot. Who would think to drill beneath a wildlife preserve?

Bleary eyes looked at the chronometer on the desk. He'd been working for more than three hours. Not necessarily a long time, but difficult when considering the late hour and his early rising. He typed a message to Koushiro then switched off the computer:

_Join me up here for breakfast tomorrow, and come prepared with arguments. I'm telling Yamato everything tomorrow afternoon if he keeps behaving like he did yesterday._

***

Trying to contain his general disapproval, Koushiro thumped his breakfast tray down on the table with only slightly more force than was necessary. "Okay." Focusing on Taichi, he wasted no time in getting down to business. "Now that you've had your preliminary fun with Yamato, tell me the news from dinner."

Taichi put up no resistance to the request, probably realizing that he would be unable to delay thinking about the consequences of last night's talk any longer. And, Koushiro suspected, probably grateful to be avoiding the topic of Yamato. Taichi paused a moment before speaking. "The biggest news is that there are rumors that Lord Otis might be retiring. It's a shock to everyone, since we expected him to keep his fingers clutched around the reins to Eternal Nanotech Enterprises for as long as those machines in his body will let him. But the source is a good one and Lord Kidou confirmed the accuracy of the report as well."

Koushiro sat back to digest that bit of news. "I'll agree, it does sound unlikely," he said, his uncertainty leaking through to his voice. "But if it is true..."

_Why would Otis give up control? He can live forever with those nanotechs he's designed exclusively for himself._

"If it's true..." Taichi continued softly, "Power's going to be shifting. And I don't like it that Kidou seems to know what's going on. He's nearly as bad as Yagami's supposed to be."

Koushiro let his mind examine the ever-expanding web of possibilities based on the permutations of choice and circumstance. "If Otis really is stepping aside, then this might be our chance to step in and change things. Our position is stable enough to provide resistance against whatever new regime might spring up. But if we want to make a _lasting_ difference, we'll need to know more about what's going on."

Taichi nodded in agreement. "Would it be too dangerous to put the question to our contacts in Kidou? They would be in the best position to know something."

Espionage and counter-espionage among the High Lords were common. The network of spies that Koushiro managed had suffered heavy losses recently and his uncertainty of whether or not the leak had been fixed suggested that it was _not_ fixed.

_Still, it's important enough to risk it..._

"A few of our operatives remain in Kidou," Koushiro answered. "The main communications lines are questionable, but if I put the word out through one of the emergency channels, our plans should remain undiscovered."

"Do it then. And also ask for information on what Kidou's up to. Shin and Shu weren't with him. They could be planning something for their father." Taichi scratched at the back of his neck. "And speaking of planning something... That hacker calling himself 'the Kaizer' has a definite agenda. Most of the dinner conversations were complaints about his activities. He's attacking the bank accounts of wealthy Lords. We're lucky we haven't been hit yet. They're keeping it from the news reports to discourage copycat crimes, but the problem is quite severe. Nobody knows who he is or even where he's operating from since the crimes range all over Japan." Taichi paused. "He could be an ally for our cause. We should try tracking him down and getting in contact with him. It'll be difficult, but with your skills, I know you can do it."

_Lucky,_ Koushiro thought derisively._ He thinks we're lucky that we haven't suffered an attack from the Kaizer. What the hell does he think I do all day? Push keys at random for the fun of it? The Kaizer's attacked us ten times in the past month. And I've **told** him this. How can he not remember?_

The only conclusion available was that having Yamato here was distracting his friend from giving his usual quality of leadership. Yet despite his lapses in memory, Taichi did have a point. A man with skills like the Kaizer's would be a beneficial ally. But it was the same problem as with Yamato. Taichi was just too damn trusting.

Still, getting a location for the Kaizer would be a good idea, even if they didn't approach him or her for an alliance. He could spare at least one of his agents for the search. Now... if only he could turn up some information on Yamato.

He'd not been stewing idly these past twenty-four hours. But all of his requests for reports on Masaharu and Yamato's activities had been unfulfilled. Either there was nothing to find, or whatever they were up to was cunningly planned.

_There's just too much deception. And I'll bet my favorite hard drive that Taichi won't tell me that he kissed Yamato. He knows I'm watching him when they're together, but he hasn't even brought it up. I know it'll sound like I'm jealous, but _

"Koushiro?" Taichi was looking at him questioningly.

Right. _Taichi. Otis. Kaizer._ He'd let his brain wander away in the middle of a conversation. "I'll make the necessary contacts for both Otis and the Kaizer after we're done talking here."

The frown creasing Taichi's brow remained. "Are you okay, Kou?"

Koushiro sucked in a breath. He'd been thinking about this ever since he'd gotten Taichi's message in the small hours of the morning. Now was as good a time as any to say something. "I saw the kiss on the surveillance monitor. And I can see the signs. You're distracted and forgetting about everything that's important when you're around him." He held up one hand to forestall Taichi's defensive comment. "But, I acknowledge that one possible solution is to trust him and tell him everything. So go ahead. It's your decision, really. It doesn't matter that if you're wrong, and he really _is_ spying on us for his father or someone else, that it'll destroy the secret we've worked for years to protect. It doesn't matter that the people your family has protected for generations will be put in danger."

Taichi opened his mouth.

"No, shut up," the genius ordered harshly, cutting of any response from the Lord. "You were the one that told me to come prepared with an argument. And you should know by now that I follow your orders to the letter when it's in your best interest. So listen."

Taichi shut his mouth. Perhaps he had brains inside all that hair after all.

"I told you before that I trust your judgement. And I still do. And I _want_ to see you happy." Koushiro felt his anger fizzle. "With all the shit you've had to deal with ever since your father disappeared, you deserve a bit of happiness more than anyone else. But you can't be wrong on this one, my friend. The stakes are even higher now that Otis is planning something. You care about Yamato. I get that. But this chance to make a difference is bigger than him. Bigger than you. Bigger than me. You've got to stay focused."

Taichi waited a few seconds to be sure Koushiro was done speaking, then smiled at him. "Whoever said you weren't good at speeches?"

Koushiro slitted his eyes in mock-annoyance. "Don't tease a man who has complete access to your computer if you value your dignity," he threatened.

The brunet grinned and put up his hands in defense and surrender. "Hey, I wasn't teasing, I was _complimenting_."

He snorted. "Funny how coming from you it amounts to nearly the same thing."

"I am a master of many talents," Taichi boasted.

"Well," the genius said, rising from his seat. "Get changed and go use your talent for character judgement on our new guest," Koushiro told his friend.

He left the 'Don't screw up' hanging in the air, unsaid.

***

Yamato awoke to darkness and painful hunger. It was impossible to tell what time it was, or even what day it was. There were no windows, no light switches, not even a muted glow around the edges of the door that would drive some of the darkness away. He was trapped in a world with a complete absence of light. The blackness, a comforting balm to his thoughts as he had drifted to sleep with hopeful memories of Taichi, was now empty and frightening.

Yamato rose from the mattress and moved across the carpet, his hands outstretched and searching for the doorway to the small lavatory. Although he was bothered slightly by the fact that he didn't feel the need to relieve himself, it was probably for the best. He didn't trust his aim in such an unfamiliar setting and he doubted that anyone would be cleaning up after him.

Blindly, his hands found the sink and started the flow of water. The feeling of cool wetness on his face and hands was refreshing in the neutral temperature of the room. He took a long drink and the weight of the liquid staved off the worst of the hunger pains. The only thing he'd eaten yesterday had been that revolting mush... and he hadn't kept that down. No wonder his stomach ached.

_What sort of existence is this?_

He resisted the urge to force his fist into the nearest wall and instead, cautiously felt his way back to the mattress and punched it repeatedly.

_Sold by my own father as a sex slave. _Punch. _To that bastard Yagami. _Punch. _Who gloated and said sickening things. _Punch. _Ningyou. _Punch.

_Am I just a doll?_ Punch. _A doll to be played with? _Punch. _A doll to keep pretty, and use, and abuse? _Punch. _A doll to use. _Punch. _A doll to abuse. _Punch. _A doll to keep in its dark box._

 

Punch.

_No time. _Punch. _No light. _Punch. _No food. _Punch. _No one to trust._ Punch. _No way out._ Punch.

_Alone, naked, in the dark._ Punch. _Waiting._ Punch. _For that beautiful._ Punch. _Smiling._ Punch. _Brown-haired. _Punch. _Brown-eyed. _Punch. _Prick. _Punch. _To visit. _Punch.

_He acted._ Punch._ So kind._ Punch._ So gentle._ Punch. _He acted._ Punch. _It wasn't real._

 

Punch. _He acted._ Punch. _It was all an act._ Punch. _Made me care._ Punch. _Made me hope._ Punch. _Made me fall._ Punch._ For an act._ Punch. _Made me crave._ Punch. _Made me desire._ Punch._ An act._

Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch...

He finally collapsed, heart racing and lungs heaving.

_I can't be weak,_ he told himself. _I've got to be strong. Get it together, Yamato._

For one terrifying moment, he thought he would lose it again  that this time, instead of feeling anger, he would break down and not be able to stop crying. The darkness of the room became an almost tangible emptiness in his heart. He felt himself falling into it, felt himself reaching out for anything that would keep him from falling into the despair.

His savior, it came softly at first  a mere wisp of frost that snaked around his limbs, enfolding them in a comforting armor of ice, restraining his movements and keeping him from falling simultaneously. Cold fingers brushed up his spine with the unerring certainty of a long-time lover and swept over the back of his skull to flutter lightly against his face, hardening his expression wherever they touched. The chill blew down from his chin, down his neck, and squeezed at his throat just long enough to make him relinquish control of that part of his body too. From there it seeped into the skin of his chest and sank deeper and deeper until it finally hardened like a shell around his heart.

Then the falling stopped.

His arms, legs, face, throat, and heart were encased in protective ice. He tested a smile and was satisfied knowing the emotion stopped there. His heart remained coldly unaffected. His eyes still just two chips of frost.

_There now. Isn't that better?_ the cool voice asked him, achingly familiar. _We're safe now._

Yamato started to nod in agreement, but then noticed a burning in the area between his legs. It was hot, aching, burning, need. _No,_ he begged. _I don't want to feel._ He tried to squirm away, but the heat followed him, staying centered in his groin. Touching the warmth with his hand only served to melt the coolness shielding his fingers.

_Shhh. It can't hurt us,_ the cold told him, smoothing tendrils of ice across the unprotected hand, making it numb again. _If we ignore it, it will go away,_ it soothed._ We'll **make** it go away._

_ Now. _Yamato pleaded. _Make it stop now._

_Patience,_ the frost breathed in his ear. _The liar's powers are strong. Do not feel ashamed that you are responding to his false charm. I will be with you and protect us. Ignore the warmth. We don't need it. We don't want it. It will soon learn it has no place in our life and will disappear. Let me have control. I will keep us safe._

If he answered, he had no conscious memory of doing so. Yamato opened his eyes, his breathing finally having returned to normal after his earlier exertions. The emotions that had plagued and confused him were distant, locked away. His worries were gone. He smiled and it traveled no further than his lips.

The mask had slipped into place.

This time, when Yamato sat in the dark, he waited with a very different purpose.

When the Lord came looking for Ningyou, he would find Lord Yamato instead.

***

After their morning meal, Taichi did as Koushiro had suggested and changed from his casual clothes to the navy-blue uniform. He donned the mask briefly to return the breakfast cart and pick up a tray of food for Yamato. Once those tasks were done, he wasted no time in replacing the mask on its stand.

Mood cheerful and expectant, he balanced the tray on one hand, keyed in the entry code, then flipped the light switch outside Yamato's room and entered.

Seeing that the blond was already awake, he called out cheerfully. "Good morning, Yamato!"

Yamato turned his head in Taichi's direction. "Is it?" he asked simply.

"Huh?" Taichi was confused.

The blue eyes were void of expression. "Is it morning? Is it good?" His bare shoulders lifted up in a shrug. "Take your pick. I can't tell either."

_What's happened to my lightly blushing companion?_ Taichi wondered and his discomfort grew as Yamato said no more. Then he noticed that Yamato wasn't looking at _him_, but had focused on the tray of food in his hands.

_Oh shit. I never fed him a second meal yesterday. He must be starving. Hikari took better care of Miko when she first got her. No wonder he's pissed._

Satisfied that hunger was the reason behind the shy man's upset expression, Taichi remembered almost too late that in his role of 'bad guy', he wasn't in a position to apologize overly much.

"You hungry?" he forced himself to ask lightly, as if the answer weren't obvious.

Yamato's glare intensified. "Yes. If that's my food, give it to me now."

Taichi backed up a step, then pressed forwards with a frown. "You wanna try a 'please' with that?"

Yamato turned on the mattress to face him, making no motion to cover himself. "I don't care whose pet you are, my father is a High Lord. You are beneath me."

Taichi fought to keep himself from taking another step backward. _That's... that's just uncalled for._ "Yamato... what happened to you?"

The blue eyes were cold. "Call me 'Ningyou'. We wouldn't want you getting in trouble with Yagami, now would we?"

_What's going on?_ "I don't care what you want to be called. I want to know what happened. Why aren't you acting the same as yesterday?"

Yamato snorted. "You _would_ like me weak and sniveling like that." The blond twitched in disgust. "Despite my appallingly uncollected behavior yesterday, I'll warn you just this once. It's not wise to fraternize with prisoners." He looked up at Taichi, eyes hard. "Or with enemies."

Taichi sucked in a breath, feeling like he'd been punched in the gut. "Is that what we are? Enemies?"

_Yamato?_

Yamato cocked his head and gave a small smile that in no way conveyed happiness. "That's entirely up to you. Given your status, you're one of the few people in this fortress who could help me escape. So, are you going to help me?"

_Why? Why, Yamato? If you'd acted like you were yesterday, I could have justified letting you go... but this..._

"I can't just let you walk out of here," Taichi said, shaking his head sadly.

Yamato's eyes locked with his. "Yes you _can_. But you _won't_. There's a difference." He turned his head away. "So there's your answer. We're enemies."

This wasn't going at all like Taichi had planned. He struggled with his shock, knowing that he needed to seem strong, but he lost. Yamato's words hurt too much. They were true.

"But..." he faltered, failing to understand the change. "But, I've been kind to you."

"I didn't ask you to be kind," the icy response came. "The only thing I've ever asked of you was to let me go. You won't even do that. So, you're not being kind at all. Don't kid yourself. It's a sign of a weak mind."

Taichi shut his eyes and gathered his strength. _Of all the things I expected to find when I came in here..._ He hated the patheticness that had crept into his voice. Why weren't the words coming out right? They'd never failed him before. He knew he was handling this new version of Yamato badly and that he had to get out and return with a better game plan.

Taichi was proud that when he finally opened his eyes, the hurt he'd been feeling was buried deep. "Eat your food," he said in a monotone. "I'll be back soon to administer your first lesson."

Yamato shrugged. "Suit yourself. It's not like I have much of a choice."

Hands shaking, he placed the food tray on the ground and then made a hasty retreat. Outside the door, he bitterly cursed whatever had caused the personality switch.

_Why are you making me do this, Yamato? And what sort of lesson can I 'teach' him? He'll be expecting some sort of sexual lesson, but I can't do that to him. So, then what else is there?_

Once again, he found himself sinking to sit on the floor of the corridor. He scratched at the fibers of the carpet to relieve some of the tension he was feeling, but all he accomplished was making bits of crumbs and dirt leap about with his movements.

_Yuck. And to top off my wonderful morning, this floor's filthy. When was the last time I cleaned? It's got to be more than six months, but..._

Taichi's expression slowly brightened when he found he couldn't exactly remember. Since servants weren't allowed on the floor, even to clean... the place accumulated dirt until Taichi, Hikari, or Koushiro decided to clean it. Main rooms were kept tidy, but an out of the way section of the level like this... What delightful luck that now another person was allowed in this restricted area of the fortress. Smiling slightly, he went off to collect the rarely-used cleaning supplies.

***

Yamato made himself wait a full minute before he rushed to the tray of food on the floor. Unlike the first meal, this food was excellent and the lack of eating utensils didn't even bother him as much as it should have. His hands got the job accomplished and that was all that mattered to his stomach. Once the worst of the hunger was gone, he slowed his pace considerably, knowing that too much too soon could be just as bad as too little food. By the time the tray was cleared of everything edible, Yamato was content to relax on the floor with his back propped up against the wall.

He considered the tray for its potential as a weapon, but had to reluctantly discard that idea. The tray was of sturdy, smooth metal with rounded corners and slight indentations to prevent foods from mixing with their neighbors. The lack of sharp edges made it unsuitable as a slashing weapon and its light weight ensured that even if he hit Yagami's pet in the head with it, no serious injury could be caused. Or perhaps, he just wasn't creative enough to use it as a tool for escape.

There was a part of him, though, that was afraid to escape. As much as he hated the lying bastard, he had to admit that so far, he'd been sheltered from the horrors that most newly acquired slaves were forced to endure. Yamato had no clue what possible dangers might be present in Yagami's fortress and being naked, unless for some unfathomable reason non-slaves went about unclothed, he would be instantly spotted as an escaping slave. Yet, if he did manage to overcome his captor, taking his clothes should be a simple matter. He let his mind puzzle over the possibilities before resigning himself to the fact that it was just a bad idea in general. Attacking the brown haired man without a plan or knowledge of his surroundings would only lead to his immediate recapture.

With a sigh of equal parts of frustration and boredom, he pulled himself from the lethargic state created by his full belly and went into the small bathroom area. Now that the lights were on, getting a drink was much easier. He drank his fill, then let the water wash over his lips, relishing the cold, tingling caress of the liquid flowing across those two sensitive pieces of flesh.

_You did well, facing the liar. You did well in remembering that we are superior to him._

Yamato trembled at the memory, but responded to the voice that was indistinguishable from his own. _I'm worried about the upcoming lesson. I made him mad acting like that._

_ No, you made him scared. You confused him. Seeing the desperate look on his face was worth it. We won._

Yamato shut off the faucet and stood, the water making a slow trickle into nothingness down his chin. He was calmer now  stronger with the food and drink. Whatever was coming, he could face it. Whatever the Lord might choose to teach him, he was ready.

Yagami's pet didn't make him wait long. The man stepped into the room, took note of the empty tray in the near corner, and focused on Yamato in the far corner. He stepped closer to the mattress.

"Lie down on your stomach, hand behind your back," the order came.

Yamato held his ground. "Make me." The man's brown eyes narrowed in displeasure.

_Good. Feel mad. You can't order me around._

The Lord ran a hand through his messy hair. "You don't need to fight me on this," he said. His voice holding less frustration than Yamato expected. "I won't harm you." It was almost soothing  a tone he hadn't heard directed toward him in a very long time.

Yamato rolled his eyes, half at his captor and half at the turn his own thoughts had taken. "For now, perhaps," he conceded, unwilling to push the point further. "But we both know whose boots you lick," he added, giving them both a needed reminder of the Lord's true purpose here.

Anger flashed across the other's face, followed by something that might have been yearning. "What if I promise I won't _ever_ hurt you?"

Yamato's response was immediate and needed no words: He laughed. It was a slow chuckle that built to something that sounded slightly insane, even to his own ears.

The man moved to stand beside the mattress, looking down at him with a frown. "Enough. Well? What if?"

Yamato gave him a look that clearly expressed he thought the other was an idiot. "If you _promise_, I'd call you a liar. Though, that's not the first thing you've lied to me about," he said all too casually, picking at the fabric of the mattress. Then he locked eyes with the brunet. Would telling the truth be so bad? "Merely being here hurts me," he said pointedly. The look on the other man's face held an answering sorrow that gave Yamato strength to hope. "If you helped me escape..."

Brown eyes looked away and closed. "Anything but that." His expression was unreadable.

Things clicked into place for Yamato. The bastard was willing to do almost anything for him, but only if Yamato remained docile... Or maybe if Yamato were to offer something the Lord wanted... He put on a seductive smile and dragged his finger from the man's knee to his hip. Yagami's pet jolted under his touch. "Then I could help you overthrow Yagami. Surely he has weaknesses. You could tell them to me. We could take him down together. Surely you'd like to take your turn on top." Yamato hid his smile as the words had the intended effect on his captor.

Brown eyes were open wide with shock. He backed away a step. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was using you to test me."

"Really? And how many of his slaves has he let you fuck in an attempt to 'test' you? How many have you used and hurt to prove yourself?" he taunted.

The Lord moved forward and had him by his throat before Yamato could try to defend himself. The fingers were tight, but not choking. For the first time in Yamato's memory, his brown eyes were hard. "I swear to you that I will only hurt you if it is necessary. That's the best I can offer. Now, _lie down_. Don't make it necessary, Yamato."

_Say something snotty,_ the voice urged, as he was torn between doing just that and complying with the Lord's request.

He hated the sound of his name coming from the other's lips. It was too much like a sensual caress. "My name is Ningyou. Or has your puny brain forgotten that fact?" he challenged.

The hand around his neck was removed.

The brunet knelt so that they were eye-to-eye. "I know your name well, Yamato. It is you who can't remember mine," he said softly, stroking his cheek. "And you never will, will you?"

Yamato opened his mouth to respond, but the stroking stopped and a finger, held briefly against his lips, kept him silent.

"Please, just lie down."

Yamato felt his heart constrict. The Lord looked so sad and tired.

_He's just lying some more,_ his mind whispered. _He's mumbling nonsense to confuse you. Fight him. If you keep pushing, he'll break._

_That..._ was true, he decided. But did he really want him to break? The other man was still gazing at him, waiting for his reaction.

_Keep pushing._

And he was about to, but when he opened his mouth to say the words, they wouldn't come and his arms ached to pull Taichi closer. He was tired of fighting  tired of pretending an animosity he wasn't even sure why he had begun in the first place.

_He lies to you. He makes you feel for him._

But wouldn't it be better if he enjoyed it? His captivity wasn't about to disappear anytime soon. If Taichi was willing to be gentle... Or maybe that was what the Lord was waiting for. What if once Yamato felt comfortable, the Lord would change into a monster and use every soft moment between them as a weapon?

_He lies. Keep push _

Sad, tired brown eyes. Taichi's eyes.

_ "What if I promised that I wouldn't **ever** hurt you?"_

Surely... as long as he kept some distance between them... surely it wouldn't hurt to give in just this once.

_ "Please, just lie down."_

He smirked at the man and lay down on his belly. "Well, since you said please," he told him.

Then Yamato tensed, not sure of the situation he'd just gotten himself into. He still didn't know _why_ the Lord wanted him to lie down.

Taichi didn't let him worry about it for long. His hair was brushed aside and the weight of the collar fell heavily against his neck as it was snapped closed.

Yamato made no move to stop the bastard, but said with detached acidity, "So much for your promise of not hurting me."

"You're going out for a bit," he was informed. "That collar is as much for your protection as it is for anything else."

Failing to see how the collar would actually help him, he focused on the part that he could understand. "Where am I going?"

The Lord's hand gripped Yamato's shoulder and steered him toward the door. "You'll see."

Yamato passed through the doorway and entered the corridor. He glanced around, carefully noting his surroundings. Behind him, there was a keypad next to his door. To his right, the passageway ended in a set of double doors. In the opposite direction, it met up with another that ran perpendicular. Other doors lined the sides in both directions, each possessing keypad locks like his own. On the floor to his left, partially hidden by navy blue encased legs, was a hunk of antiquated machinery and something that looked... fluffy.

"You will dust and vacuum this section, then move into the adjoining corridor and repeat your task there. I'll leave it up to you to imagine what this lesson is supposed to be teaching you."

He was getting his wish to see outside his room. But... Yamato stifled the urge to laugh. "Cleaning? Overseeing the machine is slaves' work, unless you're talking about programing it to the hall's parameters."

"No, you had it right the first time. It's slaves' work. You could do with some physical labor after being cooped up in your room for all this time. You should be thanking me for this chance."

_Arrogant bastard._

Yamato glared. "Interesting. You would make a wounded man perform physical labor? How kind of you. Thank you for considering all the pain I'm in from the beating my father gave me."

"You're in pain?" The look of confusion, worry, and surprise on Taichi's face was almost cute.

_That same face is the one that smiles when he's helping his master torture someone._

Yamato felt his face darken in anger. "It's not like I'm going to bounce back to normal with a bit of goo," he snapped, gesturing to his discolored chest. "Of course it..." He stretched and bent to prove his point, growing confused himself when the pain that should have been there, wasn't. "It doesn't hurt. What did you do to me?"

The bastard had the nerve to chuckle. "Don't scare me like that, Yamato. And as for what I did to you, all I did was rub in that cream."

_That cream can't possibly have done all of this. Was I out longer than a few hours?_

He searched backwards with his mind, trying to pin down the sensations he felt when he first awoke, then sucked in a breath when he did remember.

_I didn't hurt when I woke up. My bruises were sore, yes... but I know one of my ribs cracked... and yet I've been sleeping on my stomach. That shouldn't be possible._

Taichi was still talking when Yamato returned from his inner monologue. "...so the bones should be most of the way knit by now. You just have to take it easy and make sure you move around a bit so that things don't stiffen up."

Yamato was then informed that the vacuuming machine had to be propelled and directed by human power and the Lord explained that 'a close friend of mine likes to fiddle with antique machines' when Yamato had wondered how the thing was still operating. The power cells strapped to the contraption's side certainly suggested that they'd not been designed to fit there originally.

More banter ensued, then Taichi was looking at him, expecting an answer on his willingness to perform the assigned task. Yamato pondered this and was mildly annoyed that he gave the matter any consideration at all. Defiance still screamed through him, yet Taichi's promise of another decent meal and a solitary bath later on in the day seemed a fair reward for less than an hour of physical labor. He gave the brunet his grudging assent.

Taichi unexpectedly left him alone to do his chore, although it made sense that the Lord had better things to do than watch him clean. The motions were as mindlessly easy as he'd expected and before too long the corridor showed a definite improvement. The cross-corridor beckoned.

But so did the double doors at the end of the hall. Unlike the rest, they were made of precious wood. Not the tiny pieces that were commonly all that was seen, but giant, solid pieces of wood. Yagami had to have several thousand fortunes stored away if he could waste such money on easily breached doors. He went back down the corridor, trying all of the doors as he went. The double doors were old-fashioned enough to have knobs and Yamato turned one just for fun, knowing that like the others, it would be locked somehow too.

Surprisingly, the door opened.

Inside, it was set up as a bedroom. But it couldn't possibly be Taichi's. The amount of dust in the room was astounding. Even the bed and pillows were covered in it. The room hadn't been used in years. He stepped further in, cataloguing, trying to solve the mystery. A few articles of dark clothing were scattered on the floor and he found it odd that they were still lying there. Everything was untouched... except for _that_.

There was a comfy looking armchair in the corner of the room. The table next to it had been cleaned recently. Lying on the table, the album (or so the word on the book's cover suggested) was completely free of dust. Yamato gave in to the urge to sit on something other than a mattress. He brought the album to his lap, letting his fingers play over the soft imitation leather grain on the cover. Now to see what was so special.

The cover was only a quarter of the way lifted when Taichi caught his attention from the doorway. "This is not your room," the brunet said softly, but there was steel beneath the tone.

Yamato shrugged and proceeded in examining his find. "It's not yours, either," he answered mildly.

One second the Lord was standing in the door, in the next, he was shutting the album on Yamato's fingers and pulling the book roughly away. The man replaced the album, then forced Yamato back into the hallway, his hand harshly gripping the bare shoulder. Yamato was whirled around to face his captor.

"This door stays unlocked," Yamato was told flatly. "You are _never_ to come in here again," the man added with a shake. "Violation of this space is something that I am quite willing to punish you for. Am I understood?" Taichi's eyes were flared with emotion.

Yamato reached behind himself and pulled the open door shut. "Fine." It was interesting that Taichi had been protective of the album. His mind leapt to the logical conclusion. "Who died?"

"No one," the Lord said in a tone that left no room for argument, his fingers tightening enough to leave four crescents pressed into Yamato's skin. Brown eyes swept over Yamato's work in the corridor. "You've been at this long enough. Back to your room."

Confusion flickered through him. Wasn't the whole point of this exercise to humiliate him by having him perform slaves' labor in front of other people's eyes? He hadn't seen a soul except for Taichi. He hadn't even peeked around the corner into the next hallway. He was losing his chance to explore. The vacuum was still lying in a heap. Maybe Taichi would let him put it away. "But the supplies... and I didn't..."

"They'll be taken care of. Now move. Your door's still unlocked." Yamato was turned loose without the expected shove.

_Is he angry this time? He said he'd hurt me if I went back in there. Why send me back to my room?_

Yamato remained still, puzzling through Taichi's strange command. Then the man's presence grew behind him, coming to stand so close that Yamato suspected the other was inhaling his hair.

_Idiot. Lies and Trust. He gives you one and you give him the other. _

"Move," the Lord ordered.

Yamato did. Why was he so afraid of Taichi hurting him? It would just be like getting hurt by anyone else, wouldn't it?

"Belly back on the mattress, use your arms to pillow your head."

_It doesn't matter what he does to me, anyway._

He was tired and obeyed without argument this time. And, as it was too much of an effort to crane his neck around to look at the man, he settled for staring at the wall and wondering what the Lord would do now.

Fingers stroked from the top of his spine and out across his shoulder blades, each time, returning to the center and traveling a bit lower down his spine. The idea that the larger man was merely teasing him before a punishment didn't seem right. Soon, those same movements placed a slight pressure on his ribs. Then it clicked.

_So that's what he's doing... checking my injuries._

"Feel pain anywhere?" The question was made with clinical detachment.

"No," Yamato answered with equal detachment.

"Hm," was the short reply. The hands lifted momentarily, only to return, brushing the hair away so that the collar could be removed. After the weight lifted, an unexpected kiss was pressed onto the back of his neck. "Flip over."

Yamato cursed himself for shivering and obeyed, telling himself that there wasn't anything Taichi could do to him that he wasn't prepared for. Face to face with his captor, he resisted the twin urges to look away and close his eyes. He watched the face of the man that was touching him.

_So warm..._ He squelched the thought before it fully took shape.

Uncallused hands continued to move, tracing over the discolorations on his skin and along the lines of his ribs.

"And here?" A finger hovered over the spot that had caused so much pain last night.

"It doesn't hurt." A fingertip touched him there, ever so lightly. Trembling, Yamato knocked the hand away from the rib. "I'm fine. Your cream did its trick. Quit being sneaky about feeling me up," he spat.

"Physical movement could have aggravated the injuries," the Lord answered levelly. "Just because you can't feel it, doesn't mean that you're completely better." But he made no further move to touch Yamato. Instead, he shifted to sit at the foot of the bed, his hands clasped in his lap. The expression on his face, for all its lack of emotion, made him look particularly vulnerable.

Yamato's anger sparked, recognizing the signs. _He's about to lie to me again,_ he realized. _By not fighting him, he thinks I've gone soft again. He'll try to manipulate me. And dammit, I was falling for it again!_

"Yamato, I have to ask," Yagami's pet began. "Were you scared this morning? Is that why you acted so harshly?"

"You are to address me as Ningyou," Yamato reminded him with a bored tone. "And for your information, I was acting like myself. You're deluding yourself if you think you're going to win me over by being nice."

The bastard stiffened in response to his words.

Yamato smiled nastily. "So since today's activities were so much more strenuous than staring at the wall all day, if you aren't going to fuck me, get the hell out of my room and let me rest."

It took a few moments for the Lord to move, but the man did as he was requested and left without saying a word.

But for some reason, winning a battle with his keeper just wasn't as satisfying.

Despite his best efforts and the fact that he'd not been tired before, the look of pure disgust that was on Taichi's face before he left the room had Yamato crying himself to sleep.

***

The youngest son of Lord Kidou stepped into his rooms, fully intending to go straight to sleep after his wearying week. The sight that met him stopped him in his tracks.

Pink.

He couldn't even begin to catalogue the atrocities committed against his room. The only connection he could make between the flowers dripping off the bookshelves, the fabrics draped artistically over his furniture, the demonic fuzzy bunny slippers waiting just inside the door, and the multitude of other additions to his rooms, was that they all were some varying shade of pink.

Oh yes. Now he remembered. His favorite pleasure slave had been so distraught at his sudden departure that he had promised her she could redecorate in his absence. Surveying the results with a wince, Jyou moved through his rooms in search of his lovely flower. That he didn't find anything in the outer rooms did not surprise him. Since the hour was late, he opened the door to his bedroom quietly and was, again, shocked.

His previous dismay melting away, Jyou felt his lips pull upwards in a familiar, indulgent smile. The only difference made to his bedroom decor was the addition of a scattering of pink candles that flickered soft light over the curves of the bed's occupant. Mimi lay artfully arranged in her nudity on top of the covers, her hair curled and face painted to perfection... not that she was any less perfect without the enhancements. Feeling blood color his cheeks to match the outer rooms, Jyou gulped down the fluttery feeling in his stomach and mildly berated himself for acting like such a quivering virgin. Mimi had been reserved for his exclusive pleasure for quite some time.

After checking to see that the candles were placed on non-flammable surfaces, Jyou undressed and slipped under the covers. There was plenty of room on the large bed for him to sleep on the edge without disturbing the slumbering young woman. But then, as he lay, matching his breaths in time to the rise and fall of the soft flesh of her belly, the thought struck him that his pink flower might catch a chill during the night. Remembering the awkward and embarrassing result of his first (and last) attempt at carrying her, the young Lord opted to stroke the soft flesh of her cheek.

She let out a contented murmur and pressed herself into his caress. Her wide eyes blinked slowly open, then her semi-permanent smile wavered as she scrunched up her nose prettily.

"I wanted to stay awake to welcome you back," she said, pouting.

"That's all right," he assured her. "I'm too tired to do much more than cuddle before I fall asleep."

Jyou tugged her to the top of the bed then patted invitingly at a warm spot beneath the blankets. Ever-obedient to his desires, Mimi joined him and snuggled up against the length of his body. She looked up at him, a frown wrinkling her brow.

"Did you have a rough trip? You were gone for such a long time. I missed you."

Jyou wished that he could just relax into sleep without Mimi's near-incessant chatter, but he remembered that she rarely got news of the outside world. It was expected that she would be both worried for him and curious about what had happened.

Thinking back, he replied, "Lord Yamato ended the masque before the final slave that my father wanted had been shown. He was in a foul temper for the rest of the trip." He gave her an amused smile. "From the look of things, I trust you weren't too bored."

"Do you like it?" she asked hopefully. "I tried so hard to make everything perfect."

Although normally strictly honest, it was impossible for Jyou to say anything that would knowingly upset her. Despite Mimi's duties and status in life, she carried a purity and innocence within her that made it a crime to cause her pain. Jyou caught her lips in a kiss, then hedged, "I liked the bedroom best of all."

His effort was rewarded by her soft smile.

"But tell me, how did you gain access to everything?" Truly, he hadn't minded giving her free reign of decorating the chambers because he had thought that she wouldn't have access to much more than fabric and flowers of darker shades. Pink things were not something that his father stocked in large supply.

"Shun came to check up on me the day after you left. He found me looking over the fabric samples then offered to get me whatever else I wanted for the room."

That made more sense. Shin and their father frequently ignored Jyou, but the younger Lordly twin, Shun, took pleasure in teasing his brother. So... Shun was the one responsible for the explosion of pink in his suite of rooms. He contemplated having a word with his older brother, but decided against it. Shun would have won, anyway, and besides, Mimi was happy.

"He also let me order up some new things for my costume wardrobe," she added. "Want me to model them for you?"

Jyou smiled and held her so that her head was tucked beneath his chin. "Later, little flower," he chuckled. "Let me rest a bit so I can show you how much I appreciate seeing them."

She shifted so that she could draw lazy circles on his chest. "You said you were tired, but I could still give you pleasure," she said with a purr.

Jyou caught up her active hand and kissed each fingertip before returning her arm to her side. "That's a very tempting offer, little flower, but I honestly do need to sleep."

Rather than becoming upset at his gentle refusal, Mimi relented and snuggled closer to him. It was one of the things he loved about her the most  she never demanded anything from him, never treated him like he was inferior, never was disappointed in him, never gave him anything less than her pure, sweet, unconditional love.

When her eyelids dropped as sleep reclaimed her, Jyou felt better about declining her offer. She needed her rest as much as he did.

But now with thoughts circling in his mind, sleep seemed a far-off thing.

"I missed you too, Mimi," he whispered, knowing that she wouldn't hear. He'd deliberately waited until she was asleep. It could never be said when she was awake. Jyou just wasn't that cruel.

He knew he was a fool for loving his slave. Only pain could come of it.

***

Yamato was miserable.

The perpetually smiling brunet hadn't returned that evening, nor had he turned up in the three empty days that had followed. He'd kept his promise, though. Delicious hot meals were shoved through the one-way flap at the bottom of his door. And the night of their... Yamato hesitated to call it a _fight_... that night, the Slavemaster had come to take him to bathe and had left him mercifully in peace after promising to cause him serious pain if the blond tried drowning himself  not that Yamato was keen on suicide. He had just been grateful he didn't have to put up with that annoying red head like he had the last time.

For the next three days, the meals and lights came and went with pleasing regularity. But Taichi was achingly absent. The unending silence, mixed with boredom, made Yamato decide that the Lord was punishing him by making him go insane.

Taichi finally showed himself after Yamato had finished his morning meal. Yamato had been anticipating their meeting for a long time and definitely had a few choice words to tell the man. But although when Taichi opened the door he looked physically the same, it was as if there was a wall between them. They stared at each other for a long moment, Yamato's caustic words dying unsaid. Then the brunet spoke simply, "If you're bored, follow me," then he turned and walked down the corridor, leaving the door wide open.

Stepping outside of his room, Yamato's hand went to his bare throat. Did the collar really keep him safe? Was he in danger now? But Taichi had paused before reaching the cross-corridor and was tapping a code into a door's keypad. The taller man motioned for Yamato to enter.

Snarling at himself for acting so timid, Yamato thrust his head up proudly and stalked into the room... half afraid of finding a bed with straps and other painful devices... half afraid of the unimaginable alternative. He'd not expected to see exercise equipment contained in a very large cage, nor did he expect the comfortable chair and small shelves of books and crumbling papers. One wall was broken by a doorway that opened on a bathroom similar to the one in his room.

"The cage is unlocked when all weights are in place and locks itself when any heavy objects are removed from their holders," the Lord announced. "You will use this equipment regularly to keep yourself in shape. I recommend, however, that for today, you begin with the books. You are expected to be familiar with all of them. I will be back for you in six hours to check on your progress." He was halfway out the door when he turned back. "If you deliberately damage the contents of that bookcase, Yagami will know and you will be subject to a punishment even I cannot protect you from. Some of those are the only copies in existence." Taichi stopped to consider him. Yamato was expecting him to smile as he usually did, but he did not. Instead, the brown haired man turned and stepped the rest of the way through the door. "I know you're not stupid enough to damage such rare items, but the warning must be made." The door locked shut behind him.

_He didn't smile at me. Not once._

Not liking the answer that he knew he'd find if he began searching his feelings, Yamato went to the set of shelves. He had nothing better to do, really. After making a random selection of books and papers, he curled up in the chair and began to read, intent on shifting his mind away from Taichi.

It didn't take long for him to become immersed in the information before him. Some of it was historical records of the Yagami land, but the majority of it... He sifted through the pages quickly.

_...thousands protest the destruction of the National Library... smaller libraries are slated to receive similar treatment in May... raids on personal libraries have already begun..._

_ ...Erebus, the sentient virus that began attacking early last month, has put a strangle-hold on all communications... archives destroyed... transmissions monitored... any messages or files containing forbidden keywords are deleted... efforts to use code to avoid the virus succeed for only a short time before Erebus adapts and breaks the code..._

_ ...all around the globe, people reported sightings of large groups of the mutant animals... strange abilities... attacks... scientists deny accusations of genetic tampering... death-toll mounting... bizarre link between the mutant attacks and the increased mortality rate of five-year olds..._

_ ...rumors have sprung up about the World Cup Organization planning major changes to next year's tournament rules... confirmation about the sport's future has not yet been received..._

_ ...thousands of prisoners were released from their cells today, only to be taken to the slave auction blocks that have sprung up around the country... "with such meager times, it is good to have the burden of supporting criminals removed," is the opinion of housewife Sachiko Akazuki... experts expect to see a drop in the crime rate now that lifelong slavery is the standard punishment... _

_...this is the last edition of the _Asahi_ daily newspaper... all presses have been confiscated... we have enjoyed serving you information and wish you well in these wonderful times of change..._

The more he read, the tighter his stomach twisted into a knot.

_This can't be possible. It can't be true._

The books and papers had to be false... part of some sick plan to dishearten him by first presenting, then ripping away, a reality without slavery, without monsters, without information being closely monitored by a select few.

Document after document chronicled major changes being made to society starting shortly after the year 2002... Changes that he easily recognized as the sources of the unfavorable aspects in his life.

The only time he moved from the chair was to grab another stack of papers or books and that was how Taichi found him when the Lord finally returned.

***

"Why are you doing this?" Yamato's words snapped out at Taichi before he had taken even two steps from the door.

Taichi allowed himself a brief smile, pleased that Yamato was finally acting predictably. This he could handle. "You'll have to be more specific," he said, knowing it would irritate the blond further.

"This," Yamato said, holding up one of the rarer books in the collection. "Why do I have access to these? What _are_ they? Why, out of all the people in the world, does Yagami have them? Why would Yagami be interested in writings saying that slaves didn't always exist?"

Yamato was trembling  the same as when Taichi had let him out of the room. And like then, Taichi tamped down his urges and didn't take the two steps necessary to cross the wide space between them. He didn't offer the comfort he so desperately wanted to give.

"To keep other people from possessing them," he told Yamato. And it was true. His father had collected them in secret to prevent them from being destroyed.

"Why keep them around? Why not destroy them?"

Was it that Yamato thought these were fabricated for his benefit? Taichi would have to correct that errant notion. "What happens when truth is destroyed?" he crooned. "Where does it go when it's pushed so firmly out of people's minds? What happens when everything is based on a lie?"

Yamato was staring at him, eyes wide.

Taichi was ready. He'd prepared everything carefully  knew exactly what to say. "Yagami keeps them around as proof. Proof that, yes, the world had a chance at happiness, but people were able to take it away. These documents are a reminder of power," he said, running his hand up the blond's arm, over his shoulder, across his chest, and up his neck to grasp his chin and make it impossible for that frozen expression to turn away. "As for why you've been instructed to read them... We wanted you to know the true history of this world."

"True?" Yamato's voice was cracking along with his composure. "These _can't_ be true." Whatever mask the man with ice-blue eyes had sealed himself behind, it was cracking now and Taichi didn't dare stop chipping away at it, word by word.

"They can't be true?" he mimicked. "You know what that would mean, then, if they weren't. It would mean that this awful existence that you live in would be normal  that it's nothing out of the ordinary. All the things that happen to slaves... all the things that _could_ be happening to you. Do you _like_ living in that little room? Do you _like_ it that Yagami owns you? I never pictured you as a masochist... or one to deny all hope."

Yamato was struggling against him now, but the smaller man had been unable to break free. His point proven, Taichi released the pale chin. "I _hate_ you," Yamato spat, scrambling out of the chair and darting into the cage. "I hate you more than I hate him," he picked up a weight and, as designed, the door slammed shut. Whatever the blond had been hiding behind was gone now. Emotions were raging across his face unchecked. "Leave me the fuck alone. You're just playing with my head!"

_A head that works well in a crisis,_ Taichi mused, impressed that Yamato had remembered the instructions for the cage and had been able to use them to his advantage. Taichi could open the cage himself, of course, but making Yamato come out would be much more interesting.

Taichi smiled. He'd prepared for this scenario. "Out of the cage, Yamato. No hiding. We aren't done talking yet."

Yamato dropped the weight and it fell with a loud clang. "It takes two to have a conversation and I'm through letting you manipulate me."

Plans and words were put on hold as a feeling of triumph rushed through him. Was that what was troubling the blond?

Taichi reflected back on all the uncharacteristic outbursts Yamato had made, neglecting the fact that he was basing Yamato's normal personality on his own imagined ideal. Each had occurred at a time when the blond could understandably have been feeling weak or manipulated. There were still the not-so-easily explainable comments about overthrowing Yagami, but those could be pushed aside for the moment. As long as Yamato didn't try to seduce him, Taichi wouldn't worry about that possibility. For the moment, he could believe that Yamato truly meant them no harm and that he was merely responding out of fear. A weight he hadn't felt until just now, lifted from his heart.

He returned his attention back to Yamato, unable to keep his happiness fully contained. In Taichi's earlier silence, the blond had moved away from him to the furthest side of the cage. Taichi was grateful that his back was turned. He hated seeing the bruises on Yamato's chest. Even though Yamato insisted they didn't pain him, there had to have been emotional pain at his father's betrayal.

Or was it not a surprise? Was Yamato conspiring with Masaharu? Taichi refused to think about this being a trap for him. He'd stay cautious  it would be protection enough. For even though he was sure now that Yamato was a victim, he'd follow through with the rest of the plan he and Koushiro had come up with.

Yamato would be given a chance to escape. Not yet, but soon. Maybe as early as three days from now. That would give him plenty of time to set things in motion.

But first he had to find out one more thing and he would use their mutual attraction to each other to do it. At least, the attraction seemed to be mutual. The blond had just announced his hatred, but that didn't belie the fact that he became distracted if Taichi was touching him. Although it pained him to use caresses as a tool to make Yamato more pliant, it would be a delight to feel that soft skin beneath his hands. He only hoped he would be able to pull himself back when he got the information he needed or if things got too intense.

"Yamato," he called. "Consider this a warning that the metal floor you're standing on is hooked up to an electric current. I don't want to hurt you, but if you don't come out of there, I'll zap you and carry you out."

The blond still didn't turn around. Things would have to be played out very carefully.

Taichi began a count-down, hoping Yamato wouldn't test him. The threat was valid  the cage could actually shock Yamato, but Taichi wasn't sure he could go through with it.

"Five... four... three..."

***

Yamato heard the count-down, but really, he was more curious about what Taichi would do if he didn't obey.

"Three... two... one..."

Yamato didn't move. Taichi didn't speak. At least five minutes passed in silence... not that Yamato was counting. His mask had been ripped away. The hate and anger he felt had dropped steadily as the time stretched and his nervousness was increasing. His inability to see Taichi's expression and his unease on that matter made him be the one to break first. "So, aren't you going to..." He trailed off.

"I was going to wait until you decided it would be in your best interest to do as I ask," Taichi said. "I didn't have time to test this cage recently. I think the techs set the stun to mild, but it's difficult to tell. I really don't want to hurt you, Yamato. I just want to talk with you a bit more. Come on out of there."

Yamato heard Taichi start to circle the cage and he moved to the opposite side, keeping his back to the man and an even distance between them. Taichi didn't move to face him again, so seemingly, the Lord was going to wait for him to come out on his own. But that wouldn't be anytime soon if Yamato had his way.

More than anything else, he wanted to be alone. It was too much to handle. Too much to think about. He couldn't seem to regain the frozen indifference the mask had granted him. To think that there was a time when slavery wasn't so ingrained in society  all his life he'd wished things were different.

In his father's fortress, he'd been alone in enduring the chafe of slavery. None of the lesser lords seemed troubled or bothered. Even the slaves themselves, including the ones who fought against their servitude, never questioned the social order. Those who rebelled did so to keep themselves sane. There was no hope in them for a different future. Some of the slaves were grateful for the reprieve he gave them from cruelty, but most ignored it or feared it or hated him for it because it reminded them that they were people. And the boy... Iori. Yamato doubted that Iori, wherever his soul was, was thanking him.

Here in Yagami's clutches, he was treated better than he'd ever expected, but it left him afraid of what situation he'd find himself in when the dream ended. The only way he knew to deal with the stress was by wearing the mask. But the gentle, soothing tone in Taichi's voice wasn't helping his failing battle to rebuild the crumbled shield. Taichi was slowly wearing his resistence down and now... there were times when Yamato didn't even want to fight it anymore.

He chanced a glance back over his shoulder. Taichi's hands were raised above his head and were curled around two of the bars of the cage, supporting him as he leaned against them. His forehead, too, was pressed to the rounded dark metal strips. Eyes closed, mouth tightly shut, face guarded against letting emotion show  he almost looked like he was sleeping, but there was a tenseness in his muscles that suggested otherwise.

Taichi was both the best and the worst thing about his enslavement to Yagami. For as much as his own harsh words suggested otherwise, he knew he was becoming dependant on Taichi. He needed to see the brunet's smile. The gentle touches and kisses... as much as they disgusted him, they gave him pleasure, kept him feeling protected.

He kept waiting for Taichi's personality to change  for the Lord to use the feelings Yamato couldn't control against him. And so he kept on provoking him... hoping to get the farce of kindness over with so he could adjust to his captivity. He knew that the longer he was treated kindly, the more it would hurt when that kindness was changed to cruelty.

And now, Yagami had apparently ordered him to learn the 'truth' about the world. In the midst of it all, he was left to wonder why Taichi seemed so eager for him to accept the idea that the world had been a different place at one time. The only conclusion that made any sense was that it would hurt him more to know that things could be different, but that he was powerless to help himself. It was just another kink to add to Yagami's cruel ways, but it didn't fit with Taichi's behavior.

The Lord was trying to manipulate him  the kindness was just another tool to that end. But he seemed to genuinely want to talk. Maybe with more information, even if it was only more of Taichi's lies, he could piece together what was going on. Nothing was getting accomplished by both of them staying silent.

_But I have to stay in control for this. I can't let him confuse me._

He took another few breaths to make sure he had a strong grip on his actions  he couldn't afford another emotional outburst. When he was as calm and collected as he could manage, he retrieved the weight and set it into its place. The cell door rattled open with a clang. Taichi's eyes shot open and stared at him in surprise. Yamato took the few short paces that would bring him out of the barred enclosure and he went to the closest corner in the back of the room, still needing something to hide himself with.

He knelt in the corner, legs tucked under him, with his head facing away from the rest of the room. It wasn't the most comfortable position and he couldn't rise quickly, but it left him feeling the least exposed. Hands over his lap and a foot protecting his crack, he was almost decent. Taichi came closer, then, and Yamato resolved that he wouldn't be the first to speak. He wouldn't give the man that satisfaction again.

Warm hands rested lightly on his shoulders. "Thank you," was Taichi's quiet opening remark. Yamato shut his eyes, blocking away the warmth, and refused to acknowledge the other's presence. "I'm glad you came out on your own," Taichi continued slowly, with the same soft tone. "If you're ready to talk, I have some questions for you." The hands stroked his shoulders. "Answer them and I'll leave you alone for today. That's what you want, isn't it? Time to think?" Taichi knelt behind him, their similar heights making it so that Yamato could feel the brunet's lips moving against his hair. "Just answer me this: what would you do in a world without slaves?"

What was the Lord playing at? The question was pointless. He worked to keep the bitterness from his voice as he spoke. "It doesn't matter. That world will never exist."

"Why do you say that?" The hands went from stroking along his skin to massaging the tense areas of his neck and shoulders.

Yamato wanted to fight the touch, wanted to pull away, but he couldn't let Taichi win. He couldn't let the Lord know how much his warmth affected him. If he just answered the damn foolish questions, maybe he'd finally be left alone. Taichi had promised to go away.

"People were meant to be slaves," Yamato found himself saying, the words echoing his earlier thoughts, the ones he'd had before Taichi arrived. "Your books, the same ones that tell of 'free' worlds, refer back to even older civilizations that were based on a structure like the one now. Slaves existed, even back then, if your precious books are true."

There really wasn't much hope in the past. People had been blind enough to be controlled. The world deserved what it got. Yamato let out a laugh at the irony. He finally understood what his father had been trying to teach him. It was a shame he'd learned the lesson only now that he was exiled for showing pointless mercy to creatures that were far better off having the security of being controlled. Being slaves removed them from having the responsibility of taking care of themselves, of having to make and uphold their own decisions.

"There are weak people and there are strong people, and the strong will always try to control the weak. I'm one of the strong," he said, daring Taichi to disagree. The man behind him remained silent, but the hands clamped down on him tightly. Yamato pressed on. "Slaves will always exist. They're meant to be controlled by the stronger people, by people like us. By people like me."

It was a challenge. He wasn't sure if he believed himself, things were all muddled. But he had to say it  had to see how Taichi would respond. The clenched hands, not quite bruising him, suggested anger. Then he was released.

Taichi scooted closer, his knees splitting to rest against either side of Yamato's huddled form. An arm snaked around his bare middle and rather than tugging Yamato out of the corner, the brunet used the leverage to pull himself closer. Yamato was gathered back to rest against the warm chest, one of Taichi's arms curled around him, keeping him close... the other delicately roaming over his naked torso.

With the mask gone, without the cool indifference to keep it at bay, desire rushed through him. He knew he should struggle, knew he shouldn't let Taichi touch him without him making some scathing comment. But...

Taichi kissed the juncture of his neck and shoulders, sucking softly, then he fluttered his tongue against the sensitized skin. He eventually drew away and leaned around to whisper hotly in Yamato's ear, "I know you're strong. I've seen your strength many times. You don't have to prove it to me. I already know." The hand holding him motionless moved and joined the other in its dance across his chest. "That's why I'm surprised that you're so reluctant to hope." Taichi leaned around and whispered in his other ear, "Don't you agree that the world could be made better?"

Yamato shook his head  partly to clear his mind, partly in denial of Taichi's statement. "This is the society we live in, the society we were meant to live in. It can't be changed."

A moist tongue dragged its way across his back at the same time one hand twisted his nipple sharply. Unable to stop himself from reacting, he arched backwards, head falling back to land on the Lord's shoulder while his hips thrust backward.

Taichi groaned deeply at the contact, but didn't thrust against him as Yamato had expected. The Lord was getting aroused. Yamato could feel it. Yet, he was holding himself back. Yamato felt Taichi kiss his throat instead.

"What if it's not?" Taichi asked him between the attacks he was making on Yamato's neck. "What if you're wrong? Society can change if there is someone willing to stand up and change it."

He couldn't think. Too long. It had been too long since someone made him feel this way. In the back of his mind, he remembered that Taichi was doing this to manipulate him. But did it really matter?

One of Taichi's nips landed harder than the rest, causing him to gasp for air. "Answer the question," the Lord demanded, nuzzling the sore spot.

Yamato tried to ask him to repeat the question... it had gone completely out of his head... but all that came out was a needy whimper. Taichi seemed to understand, though. "What if it were possible to fix our society?" he whispered, finally backing off a little and letting Yamato catch some needed breath.

"Some things," Yamato answered, heart pounding, "are too badly broken to be fixed." He knew. He was one of them.

Strangely, it wasn't Taichi who had broken him. Now that the mask was gone, he didn't know who he was anymore. Had the mask ever really existed? Had he just pretended to be an ass to please his father, or had he only been nice because long ago someone special had made him promise? He remembered a slave... a slave who had been more of a father than Masaharu. He'd been manipulated from a very young age  that much was obvious, but by who?

With the mask gone, what was left? What was real? His feelings right now, he couldn't even trust them. He hated being owned by Yagami, but Taichi's heat... He was losing his mind. "Some things are just too badly broken," he repeated to himself.

"And some things aren't." Taichi's voice, suddenly hard and insistent, shook him to semi-alertness. The man's hands, unmoving, were wrapped around his waist now. Again, warm breath tickled his hair. They were both kneeling as they had before. A long-forgotten ache had Yamato turning halfway and seeking the comfort of Taichi's lips with his own. They melted together for one flashing moment, then Taichi firmly pulled away. "How can you determine if it's worth it before you even try?"

That last had been asked so softly, yet intent brown eyes demanded a response.

Yamato struggled against a gnawing pain. _What is he trying to do? Why does he want me to hope? Nothing's worth it. He won't let me go. There's no stopping Yagami. This kindness is just temporary._ And his words came out bitter. "Whoever fights against the system is going to end up dead. The same for any fool naive enough to follow them."

"Like you?" Yamato felt his face go pale at Taichi's words. Gone were the Lord's smiles

 

 his eyes were hard and serious. "Yagami told me what Masaharu said about you. He said that he was getting rid of you because you were too kind to slaves. Is it true?"

"So that's what this is all about." Yamato cursed himself repeatedly. He was such an idiot. The way Taichi had acted before when Yamato had suggested getting rid of Yagami together  it all made sense. Taichi was testing him to see if he was a worthy ally. If Taichi learned the truth, that he had been foolish enough to try to fix what couldn't be helped... Then it hit him. There was no way Taichi could see him as an ally. Less than two minutes ago, they'd been a few garments away from having sex on the floor.

_Despite what he says, Taichi thinks I'm weak... a thing to be used._

And the thought made him burn, all his pent up passion turning to anger.

"You just love thinking I'm weak," he snarled, wrenching himself away from the Lord. The corner, the awkward position he was in, and the circle of Taichi's arms kept him from moving much, but at least they weren't still touching everywhere. He had regained some control over himself. "My father got rid of me because I was turning into competition. And while there is some truth to what he said, it is largely a matter of perspective. Kindness can be worse than cruelty. My methods just happened to clash with his own."

Taichi sighed, eyes troubled. "Why is it so important to you to not seem weak?"

"Why is it so important for you to prove that I am?" Yamato countered. When the Lord didn't respond, Yamato continued. "You're manipulating me. I know it. I don't know why, but you are. You want me to hope, but you refuse me my freedom. How would you feel? Would you like it?"

Instead of apologizing (the least likely) or getting angry (the most likely), Taichi smiled slightly at that, then nodded as if coming to a decision. He released Yamato, placed a swift kiss on his shoulder, then stood. Yamato immediately scooted away, pressing himself further into the corner.

"I'm going to get something. Please stay here, okay?"

The brunet was out the door before the words could register. Moments later, something thudded down in the hall and Yamato thought he heard Taichi grunt. The door was slammed open and his mattress was hefted through, landing with a muffled thump on the floor in front of the cage.

_He brought my bed?_

Now that his thinking was a bit clearer, Yamato was fairly sure that it wouldn't be a good idea to get close to Taichi. He wondered if the Lord would force him now. Rather than betray his weakness, he stayed silent and settled for glaring at the mattress. Taichi walked over and knelt down beside him. When Yamato checked, Taichi's expression was still soft, but that wasn't an assurance of anything. Yamato suppressed a shiver. Although it wasn't a good idea, Taichi might be nice enough to make it pleasurable. His thoughts drifted back to how the Lord had covered his neck in kisses.

"Hey," Taichi said, drawing his attention. "You don't have to look at me like that. I'm not going to do anything." He stood and offered Yamato a hand up. "I'll be busy for the next few days. I just figured that if I brought your bed in here, you could sleep, exercise, and read on your own schedule. You can control the lights in this room yourself," he said, nodding at a keypad by the door.

Yamato stood with Taichi's help, feeling both disappointed and relieved that the mattress was for his use only. And... a little angry. Taichi had evaded his questions. The Lord turned to go, but Yamato snagged his sleeve. "You're still manipulating me," he said, issuing the challenge.

The Lord turned back and raised one hand to run his fingers through Yamato's hair. Yamato permitted the touch, but he refused to let himself lean into the caress or give any outward sign that he appreciated it. "It's what needs to be done," Taichi said at last, a haunted look in his eyes. "Please bear with it a little longer. You're almost through this, Yamato."

Yamato nearly cried in frustration. "Almost through _what_?" It felt like he was playing a game but nobody had bothered to tell him the rules.

Lips crushed heavily against his own, with no hint of the earlier tenderness. It was a kiss of all-consuming need. "I can't tell you," Taichi said after they had broken apart for breath. "Just don't stop being strong, don't stop hoping... and when it's all over, please forgive me."

Yamato searched the other's pained eyes for any clue to what he was talking about. "What exactly do I need to forgive you for?" Worry and confusion were twisting his insides. He desperately wanted to know what was going on.

Taichi stroked a lock of hair out of Yamato's eyes, tucking it safely behind his ear. The grin splitting his face was forced. "Forget about it. It doesn't matter." He kissed Yamato again, softly this time. "I know you won't forgive me, so don't worry about it."

"How can I trust you when you tell me not to?" Yamato asked.

Taichi turned away and headed for the door. "I need to go," he said, avoiding the issue again. "There are things that I need to take care of. And I said that I would leave you alone to think if you answered my questions. I haven't forgotten that."

Yamato was about to tell him... Well, he wasn't sure what he wanted to say. He wanted to know the truth. He wanted Taichi to stay. He wanted a straight answer. He wanted to know why Taichi was manipulating him. He wanted... It was a moot point, however, as Taichi used Yamato's moment of indecision to leave.

After heaving a sigh and deciding that the chair was a better brooding place than the mattress, Yamato sat there and began to think.

His first thought, naturally, was how thinking had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

***

Daisuke let a few bubbles of air escape from his lips, then flipped his dripping hair and face up out of the small round tub. He shook away most of the excess water but some still remained to trickle down the back of his neck, where it mixed with the sweat from his warm-up. Excited voices, loud and raucous, were amplified by the ceramic tiles of the locker room. He grinned. His team would do well today. He was sure of it.

The upcoming game was only a practice game for Daisuke's team before they began the professional level Sakura Cup, but it was also a reward for the champions of the college level Motomiya Cup. If the winners of the Motomiya Cup could also defeat his team, then each member would have his pick of Lord Motomiya's slaves.

One of his players jogged up to him, a hulk of a man who was on the team not because of his skill but for his brute strength. "Hey, Captain! Who're we playing again?"

Before Daisuke could answer, another teammate knocked on the man's skull with an exasperated smile. "Tamachi University won the Cup. Man, I can't believe you didn't watch the final match. Their captain's amazing!"

The larger man waggled his eyebrows and said, "Hey, I was _occupied_, if you know what I mean." Moving more quickly than one would expect for a man of his size, he caught his attacker in an armlock, then proceeded to lift him into the air.

Daisuke chuckled. "Okay, that's enough. Save it for the field." At his order, the two disengaged. He turned his attention back to getting ready and tried to pay little attention to the continued chatter of his team.

"Hey, I've been down to the prize box already, and boy, do they have some nice pieces of ass in there. Plenty of good flesh to go around."

"There's only ten in there. The Tamachi captain's slave hasn't been delivered yet."

"I heard that he talks to himself a lot."

"Maybe he's overconfident and thinks he doesn't need to bring one."

"Must be some sort of 'genius' thing."

"Nah, no way he'd do that. The penalty for not having a slave in the prize box when you lose is pretty steep. And if he can't pay, he'll have to serve the captain himself for a contracted time. The guy's supposed to be a genius. There's no way he wouldn't bring a slave."

"Yeah. Who in their right mind would want to be the captain's slave?"

"Whatever. I just want to make sure I get me a nice piece of ass."

Although he'd intended to ignore them, Daisuke rolled his eyes. "Play first, enjoy the spoils of victory later!" he barked. Daisuke glanced around the locker room, making sure to meet the eyes of each team member. His expression was bright, but there was a firm strength beneath the smile. He was the leader of this group of men and he wanted to see them win. Overconfidence and lack of focus could be their downfall. "They're the ones who are supposed to be cocky and confident from having just been proclaimed the best in my father's lands," he admonished the rowdy group. "We will not degrade that title by slacking off and giving them an easy win. If they want to win the pick of my father's slaves, we're going to make damn sure that they work for that honor."

He looked over at the newer members of the team and the ones who had not shown up for the earlier strategy meeting. "Their captain is their main scorer. The other ten are brutes. None of the 'spread the skill' strategy for that team. The Tamachi captain's been credited with forty-five goals in the same game. And he's quick. They call him 'the rocket' so stay out of his way as much as possible. Otherwise, you'll foul yourself accidentally by touching him. I want everyone to stick to running interference on the rest of the team. I'll deal with their captain."

Despite the feeling that things would go well today, Daisuke was a bit anxious to play against Ken. He knew the captain's name well. Reports of the young man's many talents, both on and off the field, were everywhere in the media. He was an excellent student in the field of genetics and he could run and play like a demon on the field. Added to this was his unusual coloring  indigo hair paired with pale violet eyes. Daisuke had always wondered what the man would be like in person.

Now he had his chance.

He and the team made the quick trek from the locker room to the field. The walls, a dark gray, were lined with seats packed with eager spectators. Overhead, metal catwalks supported the gigantic lights that illuminated the field. Ken and his team were already waiting.

"Greetings, playing against you is an honor," Ken said, extending his hand.

Daisuke grinned. "May the best team win." They shook, Daisuke exerting a bit more pressure than was necessary.

Ken's returned grip was much stronger than his pale, slender hands would have suggested. "Let's play," he answered smoothly, violet eyes glinting at the challenge.

The game began, Ken quickly taking control of the ball.

_Wow. I knew he was fast, but this is incredible._

Rising to the challenge, he put on more speed, but soon Ken was in front of the goal and ready to make his shot.

Daisuke felt a spurt of anger that the university student was about to score a goal this soon into the game. He cut out to the side and did a nasty sliding block. After his impact with the ground, time slowed to a crawl.

Ken actually took his attention off the ball to briefly stare deep into Daisuke's eyes. The indigo haired man then kicked the ball up and over Daisuke's extended leg and seconds later, the ball slammed into the goal net. The normal flow of time resumed.

Daisuke got up and brushed himself off. Ken passed him on the way to center field. "Just a bit of friendly advice," he husked in a seductive voice. "That play _never_ works on me, so save your energy and don't try it again."

Daisuke flashed a shit-eating grin. "It won't ever be that close again. Enjoy that goal, it's the last one you'll make." They faced off against each other at the center of the field as they waited for the ball to be brought back into play. "I'm going to run circles around you," Daisuke promised.

"I look forward to seeing you try," Ken returned evenly.

Then the ball was dropped and the field exploded into activity.

Despite the earlier bravado, it was a difficult game for both captains. After Ken's initial goal, Daisuke managed to score twice, then Ken, then Daisuke again. They were down to the last few minutes of the game, the score 3-2 in favor of Daisuke's team.

Daisuke could feel the exhaustion creeping up on him. That last goal had been incredibly difficult to score. His lungs ached as they struggled to get enough oxygen to his muscles. That distraction was enough to let Ken gain control of the ball and the indigo haired player wasted no time making his way to the goal.

Daisuke shook himself with an order to focus and raced down the field after Ken. Although his team was up by one, if Ken was allowed this shot, the game would be tied and would move into sudden-death when the time expired. Daisuke wasn't confident that he could stop Ken. He had never faced a captain so close to his own skill level, and, while he had a high level of endurance, Ken had made him work extremely hard for that last goal. And more surprisingly, Daisuke didn't really care if Ken won. He'd earned it.

Putting on an extra burst of speed so that he was running along-side Ken, Daisuke decided that he'd only put a token effort into blocking Ken's shot. Knowing from experience that Ken would maneuver the ball out of the way with ease and make the tying shot, Daisuke did a sliding kick, landing him on his side. As he looked up into Ken's violet eyes, he felt his foot strike across something hard and then connect with rubbery softness. The ball was sent spinning out of bounds.

For just a brief moment, Daisuke thought he could see Ken smiling, but that didn't make any sense. The buzzer sounded, ending the game, and Ken's face was once again unreadable. The crowd that was gathered to watch erupted into noise, but Daisuke didn't bother noticing if they were cheering or booing. He kept his attention fixed on the other team's captain.

The Tamachi man offered him a hand up, which Daisuke accepted.

"Congratulations on a well-played game," Ken offered politely as they separated.

"Uh... thanks. Congratulations to you too," Daisuke responded, extending his hand. They shook and Daisuke continued in a lower voice, "You know, I was sure that you were going to make that goal. I didn't really expect to block you. Is your leg all right? Sorry about that," he said, having noticed the blood leaking through.

This time, when Ken smiled, Daisuke was sure of it.

"No need to apologize. I barely felt it. I was too focused on scoring that last goal and didn't see you coming." He stepped closer and his eyes traced along the edges of Daisuke's face. "But I don't mind losing to you. I am glad to have finally met a worthy adversary. I'll be in touch so we can work out the penalty for my team losing."

"Oh, that's okay," Daisuke was quick to assure him. "I think we can handle distributing the slaves in the prize box on our own."

"That may be true, but I don't keep a slave in the prize box." Violet eyes studied Daisuke intently. "It makes the game more interesting. And I like the pressure."

There was _something_ about the look in Ken's eyes that nagged at him... made him feel like an experiment that was being studied. But Daisuke brushed the feeling away, knowing he was thinking too much, and shrugged. He didn't mind if he got a slave or not. "That's fine. You can just pay me the penalty money for not offering a slave and we'll be even." He turned to go, but Ken caught his shoulder.

"You're not understanding me. I should put this more clearly..." Again, there was the feeling of being studied, scrutinized  devoured by those pale violet eyes. Daisuke tensed, heart pounding, and waited for Ken to continue. "Tamachi is an expensive university. I'm there on scholarship and the little money that I gain from grants and endorsements goes to cover my living expenses. I don't keep slaves and I don't have the money to pay the fine. I'll be taking the third option."

Daisuke's eyes widened against his will. Ken was planning to become his slave. He felt his mouth go dry. "Uh..." he managed.

"I'll be in touch," Ken said bowing. Then he looked up and locked gazes with Daisuke. "Master," he husked. With a quirk of the lips that was more smirk than smile, the man turned and went back to his team.

A tingle ran up Daisuke's spine.

If there had been malice in those words, he would have understood. He would have been able to accept Ken's disappointment about losing and not being financially able to pay the penalty. But there had been neither malice nor disappointment, only anticipation. How was he supposed to react to the seductive throb in Ken's voice? Was that the way he talked to everyone? But there had been desire in his eyes as he'd said the word, 'Master'... or at least Daisuke thought there had been.

_How am I going to handle this?_

Even if it was only temporary, what was he supposed to do with Ken as his slave?

Then came the more unsettling thought  what was it that Ken _wanted_ him to do?

***

~Master?~ Wormmon's soft voice echoed in Ken's head. ~Can I come out now?~

Ken's eyes narrowed in annoyance, but he went to his sports bag and removed the creature from its protective case. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood," he murmured just loud enough for the digimon to hear and stowed the oversized caterpillar underneath the hair at the back of his neck. "Otherwise, you'd be staying in there until I get home."

~Your plan is going well, then?~

Ken smiled. The little game was lost, true. But the winning of the bigger game was now possible. "Yes. As Daisuke's 'slave,' I will have entry to that fool's rooms and from there, I can easily access the rest of Lord Motomiya's fortress. After a few days, the world will feel the wrath of the Kaizer."

He was in the middle of gathering his things, when the creature interrupted him again.

~Master? Who are you thinking of?~

Ken only stopped the snarl of anger because he was in a public place. "I told you to stay out of my head, monster," he whispered fiercely. "If I want you to know something, I'll tell you out loud."

~But just now, your thoughts were so warm. It surprised me. Who were you thinking of?~ the caterpillar insisted.

Ken sent a blast of hate and disapproval down their mental link and felt the creature cringe away. "Learn your place," he uttered as he took the thing from his body and threw it back into its container. The beast wisely stayed quiet. "If you behave yourself, I might be lenient enough to let you out when I return home."

~You're right, Master. I was mistaken.~ The apology came hesitantly, the sender unsure if the words would be accepted.

Ken softly snorted at the understatement, but let the caterpillar feel a bit of approval as he closed the perforated lid.

_Stupid thing_, Ken thought, looking at the container. _It's not warmth. The brat will serve his purpose, then I'll be rid of him. This desire for Lord Daisuke is just a passing fascination._

Ken, the Kaizer, menace to both Lords and digimon, glanced at Daisuke's turned back, then shouldered the bag and began the journey to his tiny apartment and the computers it contained.

***

Lady Jun glared at her younger brother. "Quit pacing. You're distracting me and my lines are coming out crooked." He had only been in the room for a few moments, but it was enough to break her concentration.

Daisuke complied, plopping into a cushy chair positioned by one of the many large windows. Moments later, he began kicking his heels rhythmically against the underside of his seat  an equally undesirable action.

Jun put down her paintbrush, exasperated. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?" she questioned. "Didn't you just win your big game? Shouldn't you be celebrating with the guys, or something?"

Daisuke merely grunted in response.

Jun's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You're pouting. Why are you choosing to pout in the room that I happen to be in?"

"I'm not pouting." The kicking stopped. "I'm looking for my favorite shirt."

Jun reminded herself firmly that she loved her brother. "Sitting down?"

Daisuke shrugged. "I'm taking a break and checking outside at the same time."

"Yeah, you can keep telling yourself that," she said, taking off her painting smock. "Or..." She walked behind his chair and rapped her knuckles on his thick skull. "You can talk to me about what's bugging you so I can get back to my painting."

Daisuke folded his arms on the windowsill and rested his chin atop them, his earlier restless energy degraded to melancholy. "Am so looking outside," he said without putting much fight into the argument.

When he said nothing more, Jun tried to sort out what might be troubling him. Ignoring Daisuke's uncharacteristic mood was out of the question. The boy was a social creature. The shirt was a flimsy excuse and they both knew it. If he were truly fine, he would be out with his teammates right now.

Experience told her that Daisuke was probably in the room in order to talk to her about what was on his mind. He wasn't forthcoming with the details, expecting her to drag it out of him instead. The signs all suggested that this latest shift in his moods was because of a guy.

Her little brother preferred the sexual company of men. Jun was fine with it and their parents didn't mind as long as he kept a low-profile during his activities. The only person who seemed to have a problem with his preference was Daisuke himself. Coupling that insecurity with his never-give-up attitude, Jun was left with one usually-competent baby brother who was particularly vulnerable in the realm of the heart.

She considered her options. The direct approach was out. Daisuke was maddeningly stubborn about revealing his weaknesses. That left force, coercion, and bribery. Not feeling up to performing the first two, she pulled a chair next to Daisuke's, retrieved the plate of snacks from beside her easel, sat down, and dangled a cookie in front of Daisuke's nose.

Plying him with his favorite food wasn't entirely fair, but at the moment, Jun was more concerned about her drying paint and Daisuke's mental state than she was about keeping her manipulations ethical. Not that any of her schemes ever were.

As always, the cookie worked. The boy's nose twitched and his eyes switched to focus on the cookie, following its movement as Jun waved it back and forth. When he lunged forward to sink his teeth into the cookie, Jun snatched it away and took a large bite out of it. Daisuke looked crushed. She directed his attention to the plate in her lap.

"You can have one if you tell me what's going on."

"Five," he said, still focused on the plate.

"Four," Jun countered. "You'll make yourself sick if you eat too many so soon after the game."

Daisuke nodded in agreement and reached for a cookie, not looking nearly as happy as he should. Jun reviewed her previous words.

_The game_, her mind supplied. _Something happened at the game... with a guy?_ _One of his teammates, maybe?_ Maybe she had been wrong before about it being a love problem.

Daisuke reached for his second cookie, but she held the plate out of his reach. Rather than stretching out of the chair to reach past her to the plate, he slouched backwards in a near-boneless lump.

"Talk."

"The captain of the team we played today is named Ken. He's a really good player. I had a hard time playing against him."

Jun managed to keep herself from laughing, knowing he would never forgive her if she did. "You're upset that there's someone better at soccer than you?" she prodded gently as she passed him a cookie.

"Not exactly." Daisuke nibbled on the edge. "I'd never played against him before. He's new  some sort of super-genius who transferred to Tamachi University less than a year ago. Not only is he a great player, he led the team in an undefeated streak through the championships."

He looked down, biting at his lip before shoving the rest of the fist-sized cookie in his mouth. Jun silently handed him another one.

"His team should've won, or at least tied with us... but I pulled a sliding block at the last second and we ended up winning."

"So he's not as good as you thought? And you're disappointed?"

Daisuke shook his head. "No. That's the problem. He _is_ that good. That block shouldn't have worked, but it _did_. And I don't think that it had anything to do with luck. I know this will sound crazy, but I'm wondering if he did it on purpose."

The third cookie, untouched, was being crushed to crumbs in her brother's lap. "Do you think someone was betting on the game and offered him a reward for losing?" Jun questioned, sliding a paint-free palette onto his legs to catch the crumbs.

"No." Her brother moved his head side to side, slowly, as if he were unsure. "He was looking at me... funny. And then I found out that he doesn't keep a slave in the prize box and that he won't be paying the fine."

Jun sucked in a breath at the realization of what that meant. "He's coming here, then?"

He glanced down, noticed his hands were empty, then began picking at the crumbs in his lap. "We haven't arranged it yet, but I can tell that's what he wants." He hesitated, then kept on speaking. "The funny look he was giving me... He _wants_ me."

She removed the palette of crumbs and held out another cookie. "What do you want?"

Daisuke curled up defensively in the chair and made no motion to take the offered treat. He whispered something into his legs. Jun gently touched his knee and he repeated himself, louder. "I want to get to know him better."

She scooted closer. "There's nothing wrong with that," she told him, searching his eyes for some sign that this time would be the time that he wouldn't hate himself for loving. But the shadows were still there.

"It's not right. I don't want to be his master," he said forcefully. "I don't want it to be like that."

"Who says it has to?"

"_He_ did." Her brother stared into the space between them, refusing to meet her gaze. "Called me 'master' right there on the field. It..." A tremor rocked through him and he hid his face in his arms.

That was an answer she wasn't expecting. "Maybe he was teasing." Daisuke looked up at her, a faint blush still on his cheeks. She gave him a knowing look. "I have it on good authority that you're quite enjoyable to tease."

He uncurled, sat up straighter, and glared at her. "That's not the point," he snapped. "I don't want to like him," he continued in a softer voice.

"But you already do," she half asked, half told him. His nod was nearly imperceptible, but it was there. "Well then, little brother," she said as she stood, "I suggest that you negotiate the terms of your contract with him very carefully. This is the perfect opportunity to get what you want. You can keep him close and at arm's length at the same time. If this captain is willing to accommodate, take him up on the offer. It's not what I'd choose for you, but really, what it sounds like you want is a good fuck with no strings attached. The opportunity's there. Go for it."

Daisuke gaped at her, jaw hanging wide open.

Unable to resist, she popped the previously forgotten fourth cookie into his mouth.

_Let him chew on that a while._

***

Salamon paused outside the door. The room smelled of machinery, sickness, and something... _else_.

"Come on, Miko." Hikari was holding the door open wide enough for her to slip through. Her Chosen had been tending to the recently acquired humans for over a week now, but this was the first time she'd been allowed to accompany her into this particular room. "You're lucky the doctor lets you come with me to visit the patients. Otherwise, you'd have to entertain yourself."

'Miko.' It wasn't her name, but trapped in this form incapable of speech, there wasn't much she could do to correct the error. Besides, with her name changing each time she evolved, there wasn't much point in getting attached to any particular one. It was enough to know that her Chosen was addressing her.

It was difficult, living in this de-evolved form without speech. Normally, she had telepathic powers to counter the lack of an effective mouth and vocal cords, but ever since she had been brought to the fortress, those powers of communication were gone. Overall, though, it was an easy existence. Hikari and Taichi would talk to her, just as if she understood, and she allowed enough of her intellect to show through so that they believed her to be a cat of above-average intelligence.

Hikari was becoming impatient, so cautiously, she entered, whiskers twitching. She didn't follow Hikari because she needed entertainment  it was so that she could be there to protect her. And from the feeling that she got from this room, it was a good thing that she was here. The scent of wrongness was stronger now that she was in the room, becoming even more intense as she approached the still figure on the bed.

Hikari brushed a hand across the old man's forehead. "It's so sad," she murmured. "To be freed and now trapped in just another prison." She looked down sadly at Salamon. "But we can't rescue him from his own mind." Hikari reached down and scratched Salamon behind her ears.

The scent on Hikari's hand was different... but not completely unrecognized.

_Who is this old man? Why does he smell familiar?_

Hikari continued with her duties and picked up the chart. "Well, Gennai," she said to the comatose man. "You're safe now and we'll take care of you until you want to wake up."

_Gennai... It can't be._

Her Chosen moved away, writing something down on the chart. Now that Hikari had her back turned, there was a chance of sneaking a peek without earning a scolding. Salamon made the easy jump to the foot of the bed and walked softly alongside the body to get a better look.

Seeing the man's face, her eyes widened in shock. He was older... much older than she had seen him last, with the aging not equivalent to the decade that had passed.

She mournfully nuzzled his cheek in the hope of finding some spark of life, but the skin was dry and fragile against the moistness of her nose. The others  the other Chosen and digimon  had wondered what became of the ancient humanoid digimon. They would never know, but now she did. He had been enslaved in the human world. And now he appeared to be wasting away, his body showing the passing of dozens of years instead of only ten.

But the bad scent was there  connected to Gennai somehow. If his current situation was something that had been done to him, there might still be time. While most digimon at this level of power could produce blasts of air, sound, water, or fire, her talent had always been healing.

"Miko!" Hikari exclaimed quietly, finally noticing her and not wanting to disturb the other patients. "You're not supposed to be up there. This is no time to be taking a nap."

Knowing that Hikari was a sucker for the cute and innocent act, Salamon stretched out on her back, paws in the air, and blinked up at her Chosen. Then she curled into a ball, tucked her tail over her nose, and feigned sleep.

Her Chosen sighed. "I suppose you're not hurting anything. Stay there while I finish my rounds." She softly stroked Salamon's head. "I'll be back for you later." Her expression changed to a stern one. "No running off like you've been doing lately. You've been making me worry."

Salamon slowly unshuttered one eye in response and then let the eyelid fall shut again.

Once Hikari left to see to the other arrivals, Salamon resettled herself into a more alert position at Gennai's side. She let the power build for a moment and then released it gently. Instead of a soft pink cloud of power, all that came out of her mouth was a slender thread of pink fog. But even that small amount made a difference. Where the fog had touched his smallest finger, Gennai's skin was flushed with renewed health. The surrounding skin retained its gray tone, but Salamon was certain that with enough power he could be healed of whatever was affecting him.

But therein lay the problem. She was too weak.

The healing fog would work if she had more energy, but where would she get it?

Salamon hesitated at the answer her mind supplied. The amount of power she would need to heal Gennai of whatever had been done to him was too great to acquire from eating food alone. There was, however, one other way that digimon could gain power... blood. And while the blood of regular humans was powerful, the blood of a Chosen was a hundred times so. In order to heal Gennai she would either have to drain a human dry or drink briefly from a Chosen.

She jumped down from the bed and began to pace across the floor.

Although she was already tainted, Salamon couldn't kill another human  that ability to accept another's sacrifice was as lost to her as her angelic form. For a moment, the memory of Jeri's slowly cooling body came back to her. She viciously forced the memory away. Hikari was her Chosen now and Salamon would protect her.

The blood would have to come from a Chosen. But causing Hikari pain was completely out of the question and she suspected that she would be equally hesitant to harm Taichi or his best friend. That meant she would have to find the new Chosen.

Each unpartnered Chosen gave off a vibration of energy that a digimon in close proximity could sense. After Taichi had returned from his last trip, it had taken only a short while for her to discover that instead of two unpartnered Chosen, she was sensing three. In her curiosity, she'd already gone looking for the Chosen, and had consequently made Hikari worry at her absences in the process. Based on where the new Chosen's energy could not be sensed and Hikari's newly limited movement about Taichi's level of the fortress, it was most likely that Taichi was keeping the Chosen isolated on his floor.

Having to repeat the action several times before it succeeded, Salamon leapt up and swiped at the doorknob. The only way to get onto Taichi's floor unnoticed was under a food cart. But the problem with that strategy was that Taichi didn't always ask for a cart of food. She would have to be patient then, and hope Hikari forgave her for disappearing again. After reaching the kitchens unseen, she slipped beneath one of the cloth-draped carts and settled down to wait.

Briefly, she wondered why the vibrations from the Chosen never changed in direction of origin, but she quickly dismissed the matter as it was of comparatively little importance.

Gennai was here. The newest group of Chosen was gathering  Hikari, Taichi, Koushiro, and now this new person. Something was starting and it was up to her to protect those gathered here. The unpartnered Chosen were safe enough in this fortress, away from the energy-hungry digimon that would seek to drain them of their power, but it would be safer once they were bonded to a digimon loyal to them. After the bonding, the tingling beacon signaling digimon of their Chosen status would cease. They would seem on all counts like any other human, save for the fact that they would be protected by a digimon partner.

But where they would find that many untainted and loyal digimon, she didn't know. Most of her kind were only interested in power. Those who had once been gentle were either dominated by those more powerful or they had become the tormentors in an effort to escape their tortured existence.

The unchecked influence of Myotismon had destroyed both the digital and human worlds. He had to be stopped, but countless groups of Chosen had tried and failed. Of the last group, Salamon was the only one left alive. She needed Gennai.

Gennai would know what to do. He had been guiding the different sets of Chosen in their battle for more than two hundred years. Without him, that history of failure would be lost. Without him, those children newly Chosen to replace the ones who had been killed would have little chance of saving both their worlds.

Again, the memory of Jeri's death swelled up within her.

_Why? Why is it that of all of us, I was the only one to survive the death of my Chosen? Like the other partners, I drank her blood to become stronger so that I could protect those remaining. But..._

Feathers.

Feathers of the purest white, turning gray, decaying, rotting away, falling.

Feathers falling.

_NO!_

She wasn't a monster. She'd only take a little bit of blood from this new person. Just a few mouthfuls of power that she could store away and use to heal Gennai.

But first she had to reach the hidden Chosen.

The minutes ticked by and still she waited for Taichi to request a food cart. As she hid beneath the cloth, memories, hopes, and fears were her only company.


	4. Plotting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally Posted Chapter: 01-11-04  
> Minor Edits: 01-03-05

The tune Taichi was humming sounded no further than the confines of his mask, but the spring in his step was clear for all to see. As the ravaged lunch cart rattled into place, he tongued the voice amplifier on long enough to give greetings and thanks to the cooking staff. The women and men in the kitchen, most of them freed slaves, paused in their tasks long enough to offer him a smile or wave. The action so ingrained in his nature, Taichi smiled back even though they weren't able to see.

To say he was in a good mood would be an understatement. Things were going better than he'd hoped. After their conversation in the corner, Yamato's moods had been much more stable, the shifts more predictable. Gone was the two-faced snarling/crying youth, and in his place was a man with a keen intellect and a dry sense of humor. They weren't solid friends -- that would take time -- but it seemed Yamato was truly enjoying his company.

For the three days since he'd moved Yamato to the new room, Taichi had spent all his free time with the blond. Sometimes it was just reading silently in the same room, but on other occasions, Yamato would talk to him about his current reading material, or ask him questions. The talks were cautious at first, Yamato hesitant of putting forth his opinion -- not, Taichi could tell, because the blond was a timid speaker, but because Yamato feared his disapproval... or perhaps his betrayal. The suspicion didn't sit well with Taichi, but Yamato could tell that Taichi wasn't disclosing the full truth, and though Taichi regretted that the doubts and secrets existed, the charade had to be continued for a little while longer.

During one of their talks, Taichi discovered Yamato's enjoyment of chess. He then brought in a set and when Yamato was tired of reading, their talks continued throughout the chess games. Taichi was nowhere near to Koushiro's skill, but he provided a respectable challenge to Yamato. And although it was Yamato who usually ended up winning, Taichi had won the last match and he'd taken great effort to annoy the blond with his gloating. It had gotten to the point where Yamato had snarled for a rematch and, daring a great deal, Taichi had patted him on the cheek and told him to wait patiently. Yamato had then snarled highly detailed directions on where the chess pieces could be held until the next game, but Taichi escaped unmolested and with Yamato rolling his eyes as he set the pieces away in a much less uncomfortable container. Taichi took the whole incident as a sign that their relationship was improving.

He noticed that the man never spoke about his father, though, or the life he'd left behind. The taboo topics made Taichi uneasy, but he soothed himself by recalling that the upcoming test would quell the rest of his doubts regarding Yamato's loyalties.

* * *

Changing from Yagami's mask and clothing to the more comfortable jumpsuit took only moments and soon Taichi was keying in the code to Yamato's room.

"Lights!" he warned before flipping them on.

At the sight that greeted him, Taichi hastily tossed the clothes that were tucked beneath his arm into the corner. He took only one cautious step closer, not knowing what had caused the sudden change.

Yamato was huddled in the center of the cage, his eyes wide and slightly glazed. One of the weights was clenched in his hand while the other arm wrapped about his bare legs, holding them tight to his chest.

"Yamato?" He knew his face clearly showed his worry, but, all things considered, he had a right to be concerned. Playing the unfeeling bastard wouldn't help him any here, and he doubted Yamato was aware enough to appreciate the act. The man seemed to be barely breathing, skin deathly pale and dilated eyes unblinking against the sudden light. Something was very, very wrong.

Taichi started to move toward the cage, but then stopped, finally noticing a small lump on the floor that blocked his path.

Miko.

"So this is where you've been, kitty," he said, distracted from Yamato's condition by the solution to a mystery. He bent and scratched behind her ears. Waking, she slowly blinked her eyes open. Taichi frowned at her. "My sister's been very worried about you, Miko."

The cat began to purr and arched up into his touch as he stroked along her back.

"Stay here and I'll bring you back to her after I've figured out what's happened to Yamato."

Taichi had hoped that the second mention of his name would bring Yamato's attention back into focus, but the blond's only reaction was a seemingly involuntary shiver. Something had scared him... Miko? It boggled Taichi. His sister's cat was just so... cute. It had to be something else.

He made a snap decision, trusting his instincts that this wasn't a trap to incapacitate him, and keyed the override code into the cage.

Taichi knelt at Yamato's side, one arm around him, and started the task of prying the man's fingers from the weight. It was difficult, but at least the blond wasn't trying to swing the heavy piece of metal into his head. When he finally managed to pull the weight away, Yamato made no move to recapture it.

Instead, the man pressed himself back against Taichi's body.

"Did Yagami send it to me?" Yamato asked him in a strained whisper. His blue eyes widened even further. "Did _you_?"

Taichi frowned and shook his head, not really comprehending.

For a moment, Yamato sagged against him in relief, eyes closed, and the added contact made Taichi crave something far more pleasurable from the blond. But all too soon, the tension returned to the naked frame and Yamato pulled himself into a more defensive posture that somehow still allowed him to take shelter behind Taichi's encircling arm.

"Get it away from me," Yamato pleaded, his voice cracking as if he'd been screaming for a long period of time. "It's a monster."

Monster? Miko?

Taichi looked over to where the cat had finally roused herself and was batting at the tip of her own tail. The tail twitched. She pounced, then began spinning in circles, swiping wildly at her errant appendage as she bent her body nearly double to catch her prize. Taichi couldn't stop the small chuckle from escaping.

Yamato's face was caught in an expression of horror as he looked from Miko back to an amused Taichi. Taichi coughed, and clamped down on the smile. Perhaps Yamato just hadn't been exposed to domesticated animals... they were rare, after all. Or maybe he had fallen into some trouble with one of the mutant cats that were supposed to exist outside the fortress walls.

At any rate, he had some explaining to do.

He first had to deliver a harsh bite to his tongue, but finally he managed to fix Yamato with a serious and sympathetic expression. "That animal is called a cat, and she's my little sister's pet. I'm not sure how she got in here, probably through the slot in the bottom of the door, but she won't hurt you. Miko's quite gentle."

Yamato shifted, looking like he wanted to flee, but there was nowhere for him to go. He shook his head. "It bit me." He started trembling. "It was going to kill me."

"Where did she bite you?"

Yamato held up an arm. Taichi took it lightly in his hands and gave the soft pale skin a thorough inspection. He didn't see any marks, but he couldn't believe that Yamato would lie. Not about something so silly as this. "If she did bite you, it must not have been very hard. There's no wound," he said cautiously.

"The bite broke the skin, but it healed up."

That was definitely odd. He'd always thought of the cat as a good judge of character. The only person she'd ever taken a swipe at had been one of the newly-freed slaves who had gotten a little too interested in his baby sister. But to say that a bite had healed in the space of a few hours...

He had last seen Yamato when he delivered lunch, and there clearly wasn't a cat in the room then. Taichi was fairly certain Yamato wasn't trying to pull something over on him, although he admittedly couldn't even begin to imagine what Yamato might possibly gain from lying. He sighed.

"Do you want me to get her away from you?" Taichi asked.

He expected Yamato to say something sarcastic, along the lines of "No... 'Get it away from me!' was really just code for 'Bring her closer!'" But Yamato worried him further by merely nodding.

With a reassuring rub against Yamato's shoulders, Taichi stood, then exited the cage.

He scooped up Miko with one hand, the other moving to support her back haunches. "See? She's gentle. I can hold her and you can pet her through the bars, if you like," Taichi offered, taking one step forward, cat extended. Yamato scooted backwards so quickly that there was a painful-sounding clang as he collided with the back row of cage bars.

Taichi winced in sympathy. "Okay, so maybe not. Sorry for asking."

Yamato scowled. "Just get it out of here."

Having the good grace not to smile at the color that tinged Yamato's cheeks, Taichi carried Miko down the corridors and into the elevator and keyed the number for Hikari's floor. Seeing his sister's face light up at the return of her cat more than made up for not taking the extra time to tease Yamato. Miko seemed equally overjoyed with the reunion, squirming directly from Taichi's arms and into Hikari's waiting ones.

Hikari instantly began petting Miko and, if her strokes were somewhat frantic, it was only because Miko was pressing herself so strongly into the caress. Taichi chuckled. It looked like Yamato wasn't the only one who had a difficult time with his un-solitary captivity.

"Thank you," Hikari whispered, the sound barely reaching him, for her face was pressed into Miko's fur. She looked up and smiled. "Where did you find her?"

"That's the odd thing, actually. She was in Yamato's room."

It took her a moment before she grasped the significance. Taichi had ended up telling his sister about his new guest during breakfast a few days ago, especially since it was fairly certain that Yamato would be staying with them. But it was also because she had been getting more and more upset at his absences and her temporary banishment from his floor. She took the news well, better than Koushiro, really. Although, to give Koushiro some credit, she hadn't seen him upset about torturing the little boy. Taichi had skipped over that portion of the story. Thinking of it now made him distinctly uncomfortable.

But it wasn't like he'd been dropping Yamato's name everywhere, so it still took her a few seconds to register Miko's hiding spot.

"How did you get in there?" she asked the cat cradled in her arms.

Miko meowed twice.

"I've got no clue," Taichi answered for her. "I'm fairly certain she wasn't in the elevator with me. So, through the heating ducts, maybe?" he hazarded. "But that would mean she'd been crawling uphill." He shook his head. "At any rate, I should be getting back. Yamato wasn't as delighted to see her as you are, to say the least." He kissed her on the cheek. "See you later."

Hikari took one of Miko's paws and waved goodbye with it. "Thank you!" she called again.

It was unbelievable what that sweet little cat put up with for Hikari's sake. When Hikari had been younger and still interested in playing with dolls, Miko had even tolerated Hikari putting dresses on her. The only thing she'd deliberately squirmed out of had been a lacy bonnet tied over her ears.

Taichi saw Miko lick Hikari's nose before the door was finally shut. He had no clue how Yamato could be afraid.

* * *

"The cat's back with my sister and I doubt she'll be let out of her sight anytime in the near future," he announced upon returning to Yamato's room. "Are you ready to come out now?"

The blush returned, lighter this time, and Yamato stood. After a moment of indecision, he crossed over to the mattress and took a seat.

There was a moment where they each just regarded the other, but finally Yamato spoke.

His face was carefully blank. "So, you have a little sister? What's she like?"

Taichi took a moment to process his words. As long as he didn't say her name, things should be safe enough. It was a good sign that Yamato was showing interest. "She's six years younger than me, and every inch a self-determined teenager." He smiled at the recollection of her tricking him into letting her help with the slaves. "She wants so badly to know what life is like outside the fortress walls, but it's not safe for her out there."

"So you keep your own sister a prisoner too."

Had he really said that? Taichi thought it over. "No," he said finally, "She's better off here. And so are you."

Anger flashed in frost-blue eyes. As the glare continued, Taichi feared Yamato had gone cold again -- a resurrection of his cruel and haughty 'Lord Yamato' persona. But eventually the gaze softened and instead of an angry outburst, there was a quietly offered, yet abrupt, change of topic.

"Did you know that your sister's cat grows?"

The question stumped Taichi. "Uh... don't most living creatures grow?"

"No, not like that," Yamato said, frowning at Taichi when the brunet moved to sit next to him, but not moving away. "Like... big-enough-to-fill-the-room type of growing."

It was impossible. "Are you sure you didn't have a dream, Yamato?"

Yamato rubbed the arm that he'd said Miko had bitten, his face both troubled and uncertain. "Not entirely, but..."

Taichi smiled in relief and ruffled Yamato's hair. That was certainly a better explanation. If Miko was anything other than a cat of above-average intelligence, surely they would have known by now.

He shifted from energetically disordering the strands to gently smoothing them back into place. "Just relax."

"That should be illegal," his captive muttered softly, and without malice.

"What," Taichi teased, "Giving you the most pleasure you've felt in years?"

Yamato snorted. "No, moron. Touching my hair."

"Oh, come on. You know you like it."

The blond made a small sound of disagreement, but Taichi ignored it, knowing that between it and the low moan that shortly followed, the latter sound was a more accurate reflection of Yamato's true feelings. Yamato melted against him as the soothing touch continued and even though over the past three days Yamato had become increasingly more pleasant as time passed, Taichi had never seen the blond look so relaxed. He felt a swell of pride at being able to soothe away Yamato's worries over Miko. But now something was bothering him. He knew Koushiro would lecture him if he didn't attempt to find out what aroused Yamato's interest.

"Why did you ask?" Taichi asked softly, not wanting to ruin the moment, but needing to know the answer. "Why did you ask what my sister is like?" he clarified belatedly when the blond turned to give him a look of confusion.

After stiffening briefly, Yamato took his time in responding. "Because I have a little brother," he spoke finally.

Taichi's eyes widened. "I didn't know that."

Yamato looked at him oddly, then shrugged. "How could you?"

Taichi felt like kicking himself. "I'm sorry." Maybe, Yamato would remember. "It's just that you remind me so much of a friend I used to have a long time ago. We only met once back then, but it feels like I've known him forever. My father had brought me to his house and in the course of the afternoon, something his father said upset him and he ran away to hide. We had a pretty nice chat in..." his voice trailed off.

Yamato didn't look bored, but Taichi could tell that he was trying not to look bored.

He still didn't remember.

"Sorry," he murmured, the ache in his chest returning. "Never mind." He fidgeted uncomfortably for a moment, but finally found his voice. "What's he like?"

"Hm? My brother?" Yamato shrugged. "Don't know... Never met him."

There was a long pause, during which Taichi was very careful not to draw Yamato's attention. It was as if Yamato had forgotten he was there listening, and was instead musing aloud to himself.

"It's strange," the blond continued. "I don't even know what he looks like, but I've found myself wondering how he's doing, if he's happy." He made a sound halfway between a laugh and a snort of disbelief. "It feels like I care for him, and I don't even know his name."

Smile soft and eyes sad, Taichi asked, "Is it really so strange for you to love someone, Yamato?"

"I don't love him." The denial came quick and certain.

Taichi wisely backed off and asked instead, "Where is he now?"

Blue eyes narrowed in thought. "With my father, I think."

Yamato slouched backwards, his face growing melancholy. With the blond's attention elsewhere, Taichi let his eyes roam over the soft flesh in one last hedonistic ogle. Then he stood and retrieved the pile of clothing he'd brought with him.

"Here," he said, tossing them over. "This should cheer you up."

Yamato fingered the clothing in his lap. "When am I supposed to wear these?"

"Whenever you want, unless you get orders otherwise."

"I thought..." The sentence broke off and Yamato looked up at him with the slightest flicker of hope in his eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

The question was frustratingly simple and difficult at the same time. Yamato deserved as much of the truth as he could give him.

"I want you to be comfortable here. Comfortable with me."

Yamato blinked up at him. "But I am."

Taichi wasn't sure which of them was more surprised and as his mind supplied nothing brilliant to say, a silence grew.

He'd always _hoped_ that Yamato wasn't overly suffering from his imprisonment. He'd _thought_ that they'd been having fun together over the past three days. But it was another matter entirely to have Yamato actually _admit_ to feeling the same bond growing between them that Taichi did. He watched his new-found friend work through an internal struggle.

Initially, Yamato had looked like he'd wanted to take the words back, but his expression now was pensive.

"Why does my comfort matter to you?"

Asked point-blank, the question was unavoidable. There wasn't any sense in pretending otherwise. "I care about you," Taichi said quietly.

Yamato's reaction was not instantaneous, but his mood shifted from one of contemplation to something lighter and more playful as he stared at Taichi.

When Yamato didn't begin dressing immediately, Taichi grinned reassuringly at him. "Go ahead."

From the mattress, Yamato arched one eyebrow. "Aren't you going to turn around?"

Sensing the other man would be disappointed if he agreed, his grin stayed. "No. It's a little late for you to be getting modest now."

"Figures. Pervert." But a spark of mischief flashed in his blue eyes. Yamato pulled on the loose-fitting pants, then got to his feet in a fluid motion. He stood, hips kicked to one side, the button-up shirt grasped in one hand and hanging over his shoulder.

Taichi struggled to keep a straight face. Yamato was _posing_.

"Well?" the blond asked, the barest hint of anger beneath the expectation in his voice. He waved a hand around at the bare walls. "There aren't any mirrors here. How do I look?" In the moment that it took for Taichi to gather his thoughts, a smug grin overtook Yamato's features. "Judging from the drool, I'd say the outfit is to your liking, Lord Taichi."

Taichi suppressed a growl. He wasn't drooling. Salivating, maybe... but the smirking man shouldn't be able to tell that. Yamato seemed to be taking a perverse pleasure in flustering him. And, although he hated to admit it, Taichi couldn't deny being affected by the blond. To think, after having an unclothed Yamato in his sight for all this time, a partially clothed one was creating this kind of reaction...

Taichi swallowed. "Generally, one comments on an outfit when it is worn in its entirety," he said, his voice coming out hoarse.

With a self-satisfied chuckle, Yamato slid the shirt on, then looked up at Taichi. The musical sound faded, leaving a grin, which softened into a genuine smile. "Better?"

You're beautiful.

Taichi couldn't get the thought out of his mind, and he stepped closer to the blond.

Yamato tensed, the smile dropping, and Taichi felt himself being weighed and judged by cerulean eyes. The heavy gaze lingered until finally the blond head nodded and Yamato's body relaxed into an easy stillness. "Thank you." The words were offered softly and with the faintest of blushes.

Had he said that last thought aloud? Oh... He had.

"Not just for the compliment," Yamato continued, closing the distance between them. "Or the clothes, but for everything. You've been patient with me..." He was silent for a moment, struggling with the words. "You were right. I was scared at first, but..." Blue eyes locked with Taichi's brown. "I trust you."

Their lips brushed once, then again, ever so hesitantly, before meeting with an equally matched strength.

Taichi let his fingers wander up Yamato's back then tangled them in soft golden strands, making it impossible for the blue-eyed man to withdraw from the kiss. His mind took a while to realize the danger in forcing Yamato to do anything at this point. When he tried to pull away, one solid arm snaking around his waist kept him from completely breaking contact, and instead, pulled their two bodies closer together. The blond wanted him. Kissing Yamato, and having the blond kiss back, was better than anything Taichi had ever imagined.

Yamato's other arm tugged on Taichi's and deposited the hand firmly on the blond's butt. Not one to turn down such a rare gift, nor daring to deny the gentle command, Taichi squeezed through the material of the pants, letting his fingers knead the rounded globe. The action resulted in a pleased moan from Yamato that was soon echoed in his own throat as the man in his arms arched closer and their arousals brushed.

Taichi's memories blurred from that point until a shrill beeping caused the two to break apart. The brunet took a good look at their positioning. Yamato's shirt was gone and somehow he had wound up with his back on the mattress with Taichi braced over him and one knee planted between his legs. The man beneath Taichi was tense with apprehension, his eyes awash with embarrassment, a large dollop of frustration, and the tiniest hint of fear.

He glanced at his watch. It was Koushiro's code. Slowly, his hormone-charged brain remembered the plan. He wanted to turn to the camera and glare at his friend for the interruption, but doing so would only scare Yamato further.

As it was... "We're being watched, aren't we," the blond said, glancing around the room nervously. The camera installed in a corner by the door was too small to be detected, but it made Taichi wish he'd planned this gift of clothing to take place in the other, unsurveillanced room. But the mood was already broken, no help in moaning over it now.

Taichi captured the man's attention by stroking the side of his face and offering a parting kiss. "Don't worry," he said, pulling away with genuine reluctance. "It was just a reminder that I have to go. I've got a meeting. I won't be back for at least another couple of hours." He flashed a self-assured grin. "Try not to miss me too much."

Yamato rolled his eyes, but he was smiling too. Taichi was pleased to note the darker emotions, the guilt and worry, were gone. "Sure," Yamato promised. "See you. You still owe me a rematch for that last game of chess."

Taichi left the room, being especially cautious to close the door only slightly. He had a good feeling about this. Yamato was turning out to be the sweet, playful man Taichi had always known he'd be. If Yamato was able to forgive him for the deception -- and here, Taichi's spirits dampened, for it was a pretty big 'if' -- by this time tomorrow, he and Yamato could be living happily ever after.

* * *

"Acknowledged." Hunter adjusted the headset hooked on his ear so that it was no longer transmitting messages and motioned for Greene to do the same. It wouldn't do for the commander of the guards to overhear this conversation and have their covers blown. He turned to his fellow mercenary, expression serious. "Okay. This is it. They just gave the order to clear the area at the base of the stairwell. Take point. We move now."

Rather than moving into position, his long-time partner questioned, "Do you really think they're letting him out?"

It was a valid question, but Hunter shrugged. "You know best, you've been here longer." _Damn Lord Shin for selling you to Yagami in order to manipulate us into taking this job._ "We'd better hope, though. He's our best shot at getting Yagami."

The other man frowned at that. He'd developed a strange loyalty for the mask-wearing Lord during his stay, probably because his life here was easier than it had been serving Lord Shin. Even so, he was planning on returning with Hunter after the mission was complete.

Knowing he'd catch hell later otherwise, Hunter rested a hand on the man's shoulder. "I understand why you don't like it, Greene, but I still have my orders to bring him in. The boss is getting impatient."

Considering Lord Shin was about to murder his youngest brother out of no better reason than amusement, Hunter wanted to stay on the man's good side.

The younger man didn't say anything.

"I can count on you in this, right?" He gave the shoulder a little shake. It seemed to help.

Verdant eyes shifted to the right, then back at Hunter. In others, the action might precede a lie, but in his teammate it signaled only discomfort.

"Yeah," Greene said softly. "I'll back you up. But be nice to him as long as you can, eh? He's not as bad as everyone out there thinks."

"I'll do what I can, but we're still delivering him. Other things are at stake." Hunter didn't ask if Greene understood. That much was immaterial. Greene would do as ordered. Of course, he'd probably also cast disapproving eyes at him if Yagami suffered even a scratch while in their custody. Hunter tamped down an irrational surge of jealousy.

"Hey, Hunter? Do you really think this guy's Lord Yamato?"

"Yagami's got somebody up there. Everyone knows it. But the identity... we'll just have to see. It has to be someone important if it's kept this hush-hush. Regardless, it doesn't matter who the person is. Lord Shin's only interest lies in obtaining Lord Yagami. If the person being held captive is willing to work with us, we can be home by the week's end."

Greene looked suitably chastised by the reminder, but he still didn't seem focused on their mission. "Hunter?"

"What?" he asked tiredly.

"You've been here a while, now. Do you really want to go back? It's not so bad, working for Yagami, ya'know?"

"You going soft on me, Greene?" The younger man looked away and Hunter sighed. "He's patient, given us this long... but he's still got the others. They'll suffer if we don't return, or if we fail."

He didn't bother naming names. Greene could hardly forget their true current employer. On the other hand... maybe that _was_ the problem. Greene had been here nearly three years now, and Hunter only two. In terms of Yagami's fortress, Greene was the senior, but beneath the veneer of their assumed personas, Hunter was the leader of a larger group and he was responsible for their welfare. It was an obligation that extended to Greene.

When Lord Shin had kidnaped and sold Greene to Yagami after Hunter had turned down his offer of the job, he'd bowed beneath Shin's blackmail and reluctantly accepted. It had taken almost a year to set him up as a successful plant.

Hunter could've written the young man off as a loss and taken his group elsewhere. Looking now at the man's sad eyes, he knew he should've. It hadn't been wrong, exactly, to come after him. But if Greene wanted to stay, it would all have been for nothing. He snorted in amusement. Well, maybe not _all_ for nothing. Greene was an excellent lay -- still tight and eager to please after all these months. Yet, if he really wanted to stay here...

"When Yagami is subdued, I'll return with him alone," he said firmly. "I'll tell them you were killed in the attempt."

Greene shook his head slowly. "I want to stay with you. If you don't want to stay here, then I won't either."

"I don't love you, you know." It sounded harsh, Hunter knew, but it had to be said.

Greene just nodded. "I know. Even so," he said quietly and turned, starting down the hall. "We should be getting into place."

Hunter followed, trailing a few steps behind and giving the man some space.

Greene slowed as they reached their assigned area. "Hunter?"

"What?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

Hunter glared at his back. The problem with Greene was that he never knew when to keep his mouth shut. His talking was probably what had drawn Lord Shin's attention to him in the first place.

A little while later: "Hunter?" Green began again softly, disrupting what was supposed to be a _silent_ patrol.

"What?" he growled softly, irritation slipping into his usually even voice.

Greene winced, but pushed on. "Thanks for coming after me," he mumbled. "I never said --"

"Don't mention it," Hunter said gruffly. He knew Greene had more undercover experience than this and was annoyed that his partner was choosing to act like such a rookie. "There's been enough chatter. You'd better leave the rest of the talking to me."

They nodded to each other and swiftly moved into position, awaiting Yagami's captive.

We'd better get paid damn well for this.

* * *

The moment Taichi's footsteps were out of his range of hearing, Yamato allowed himself to stare at the slightly ajar door. He didn't dare move toward it right away, but the temptation was great. Instead, he scratched an itch at the back of his neck.

After going for so long without covering, the clothes were an unfamiliar weight against his body. Yamato doubted Lord Yagami would ever permit him clothes, so they had to be a gift from Taichi. After the scare last night from the monster Taichi claimed was a cat, it had been a relief this morning knowing that they were on good terms.

The past three days... Taichi had almost been like a friend instead of a jailer. He was certain Taichi was spending more time with him than necessary. There was no doubting the man's attraction, either, and Yamato couldn't deny his own building interest. He wasn't sure where that left him, falling in love with the man who had near-total control over his life, but he supposed there could be worse situations. He might not be around here much longer.

Leaving the door open seemed to be a deliberate gift, too. Yamato had seen it in Taichi's eyes. If he actually managed to escape, he'd end up missing the brunet. Or maybe Taichi was planning on joining him? No, Taichi had made it clear he would be in a meeting for several hours -- plenty of time to escape. If he made it out, Yamato resolved to remember him for his kindness.

Despite Yamato's few lingering suspicions, Taichi seemed genuinely nice. He had a sense of humor as corrupt as Yamato's own. He was intelligent, well-read, and loved playing chess with Yamato, even though the Lord usually lost. (It was simply pure luck Yamato hadn't won this last time.) And already, he'd begun planning out his attack strategy for their next match. But that next match might never happen.

He eyed the door again and decided to stand next to it. An ear pressed against it yielded no voices or other noises.

For all the fun he was having reading and playing games during his imprisonment, he was still being held as a slave by a cruel Lord. He knew Taichi was keeping something from him and while the man's feelings seemed real, Yamato wondered when Yagami would order him to do something more nasty. It would come down to a question of loyalty: master or friend. Although Taichi unarguably possessed misguided intentions, Yamato doubted he'd win out in the brunet's mind. Which was why he wasn't entirely certain about the open door.

Perhaps Taichi was finally helping him out. The door was open, he had clothes, and there was nothing holding him to this room. It could be his only chance to escape... yet there were no other assurances (other than his faith and trust in Taichi) that it was not some kind of trap, or test... but...

Yamato looked up when Taichi entered the room and carefully tucked a finger between the pages of the crumbling book he was reading. Sometimes, when Taichi turned up like this the Lord would select a volume of his own to quietly read, or challenge him to a game of chess... but this time Taichi sank down onto Yamato's mattress without disturbing either the game board or the bookshelves.

"What are you reading?" the brunet inquired.

From his seat in the chair, Yamato smiled down at him. Taichi, for some odd reason, seemed to also love discussing whatever Yamato was reading and asking his opinions. If logic didn't suggest otherwise, Yamato would have guessed that Taichi was starved for conversation. But the man was much too social and handsome to ever lack company. Or maybe... maybe his association with Yagami kept others away? If it did, they were fools.

_"_White Fang_, by um..." he checked the cover, "Jakku Rondon." The name wasn't Japanese, so it must've been a translation from somewhere._

"How is it?"

Yamato shrugged. He hadn't gotten very far. "Good, I guess. The wolves are pretty cool. Makes me want to see one."

Taichi smiled. "I might be able to find you a picture of one," he offered.

"Whatever. It doesn't matter much."

Taichi fixed him with a look that said he knew Yamato was bluffing. "Tell me something," he commanded gently. "Your favorite part."

Yamato sighed. This, too, wasn't so unusual of a request. The first time Taichi'd asked and Yamato had tried arguing, a ten minute fight ensued that eventually devolved into "Yes!" / "No!" / "YES!" / "NO!" -- and in the end Taichi had his way and listened with a smirk as Yamato snarled out each word.

With that memory fresh in his mind, Yamato didn't even bother putting up a fight. Even choosing a favorite passage wasn't difficult. It was the first one he'd read. The words had grabbed him, making him keep reading when what he'd really intended was to skim the first few pages, then move on to the next book or sheaf of papers.

He removed his finger from between the pages and flipped to the first page of writing. He'd finish the book some other day. Yamato glanced at Taichi again, trying to judge if the man would insist on making him read aloud like before. The Lord's brown eyes, though warm with humor, showed no signs of backing down. Whatever. He wasn't a synthvoice program. Taichi could see the words for himself.

The Lord caught his hand as Yamato tried to give him the book. Before he could start, Taichi asked, "Read to me?"

Because it had been a request and not a demand, Yamato let the other off with a roll of the eyes, cleared his throat, and began from the very beginning. "Dark spruce forest frowned on either side the frozen waterway. The trees had been stripped by a recent wind of their white covering of frost, and they seemed to lean towards each other, black and ominous, in the fading light. A vast silence reigned over the land. The land itself was a desolation, lifeless, without movement, so lone and cold that the spirit of it was not even that of sadness. There was a hint in it of laughter, but of a laughter more terrible than any sadness -- a laughter that was mirthless as the smile of the sphinx, a laughter cold as the frost and partaking of the grimness of infallibility. It was the masterful and incommunicable wisdom of eternity laughing at the futility of life and the effort of life."

There was more, of course, but that was enough. In the course of the paragraph, the smile had faded from Taichi's face and was replaced with solemn unease.

"That's your favorite part?" Taichi asked quietly.

Yamato glared. "Are you going to argue with me about what I like and don't like now?" He was angry, unreasonably so. "I don't have to defend my preferences to you."

"No," Taichi agreed, looking away. "You don't. But tell me something." He looked back. "Do you really believe that? Is this all futile?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. It seems that way."

"I've read these books as well, Yamato. I know that our planet has been polluted and raped beyond recognition. So much of the life that existed is gone... but of what remains... Are you without hope?"

_"Look around you, Taichi," Yamato said, seeing the Lord's sadness and biting back a sharper comment. "This room's pretty and all, but it's my prison. What have you given me to hope for? My life is ruined. Pretty much_ everyone's _lives are ruined."_

Taichi crawled over to him. Kneeling, the brunet was still below Yamato's eye-level from where he sat.

"You trust me, though. Isn't that a kind of hope?"

Yamato snorted softly. "No, all that makes me is an idiot."

Taichi reached out and touched him on the cheek. "I don't think you're an idiot. I know that where you're from, the winters are harsh. But here in the south, they're more mild. It's warmer here. With the proper attention, we can even get some things to grow in the soil. I'll show you the gardens someday. I think you'll like them."

"You'd let me outside? Out of these rooms?" He wasn't sure outside was a good place to be, but the suggestion shocked him nonetheless.

Taichi's hand tilted his chin down so that their eyes met evenly. "You deserve more than this, Yamato. You deserve to be free. I know this, but you have to be patient. It'll be just a little bit longer. I promise everything will be all right for you."

Yesterday. Taichi had promised him yesterday.

Well, he wanted me to hope... So here's hoping...

Yamato opened the door and peered into the empty corridor.

Taichi wouldn't do anything to harm him -- it was the only thing Yamato was certain of. Taichi was gentle, would prevent Yamato from being hurt if he could. Yamato had to trust that.

Knowing from his time spent cleaning that nothing lay to the right, he turned toward the direction Taichi had left and moved quickly to the next intersection, his bare feet noiseless on the carpet. The area was clear, so he continued moving forward along the corridors.

The place was eerily silent. No footsteps. No voices. Completely quiet. It was as if the entire place was deserted.

Fearful that the absent people were merely all in their rooms, he decided that he wouldn't try to open any of the closed doors that lined the hall at regular intervals. As quiet as the place was, he doubted they were occupied, but he didn't want to take the chance. Besides, if these rooms were suites like his cell had been, then there must be some sort of entrance to the floor around here somewhere.

Eventually, one of the corridors led him to a landing. Rather than a button to call the elevator, there was a numbered keypad.

Great. Just my luck. No wonder Taichi was careless with the door. There's no way off of this floor.

He slammed his hand into the wall above the keypad, but he didn't put much force behind it. It was a futile action -- just like his idea of escaping this place.

It's not like I have a place to go to, anyway.

But just returning to his 'cell' felt too much like giving up. He could just imagine Taichi watching him as he returned like a docile pet.

That's exactly the way he treats me. Like a damned pet!

He felt his determination returning.

He was out of his cell. The halls that he had seen so far were empty and held no points of interest, but there were still areas that he hadn't explored. The corridor running away from the elevators was a good enough place as any to start.

The decision was a good one. Close to the landing with the elevator, he encountered a stairwell leading down. The door was unlocked but he doubted that a fortress controlled by Yagami would be lacking in security. He had to move swiftly. Even if Taichi didn't know he was missing, someone else might notice an unauthorized person wandering around.

Yamato had descended about thirty floors, in his estimation, when finally there was a door at the next switch-back point. It, too, was unlocked and he went on instinct, picking one of the three directions open to him.

The clothing rubbed against his skin and the hair on his arms prickled. Not a single person. No slaves, no Lords, not even a damn cleaning 'bot. Something was wrong. The desire to be safe in his room was overwhelming.

This was a test, and he had failed miserably. He should have stayed in his room like a good little pet.

But then an unused workstation caught his eye. If he could manage to call up a map of the fortress and figure out where he was at...

Though he was nervously checking over his shoulder every thirty seconds or so, he jumped in his seat at the feel of an iron-strong hand gripping his arm.

"Well, well, well. Who do we have here? Did you lose your way? Whaddya think, partner? Have we found ourselves an escaping slave?"

The men were armed, dressed in some sort of uniform that marked them as guards.

He gave him his best winning smile. "Actually, I am lost. I'm a guest of Lord Taichi's and I thought it would be entertaining to go out and see the city. But I'm afraid I got a little turned around, and now I can't find my way to the transport bay."

"Lord Taichi? If you're going to lie, man, at least attempt to make it convincing. The lad's been dead for several years."

Dead? Right. Yagami's son's name was Taichi and that's the boy who's dead. But surely, they've heard of the other Taichi. Maybe...

The man spoke and broke that train of thought. "You wouldn't be trying to sneak out of the fortress, now would you?"

"Of course not," Yamato lied easily. "I wouldn't have asked for help if I were." But it was clear that neither man believed him.

He wasn't sure what gave him away as a slave. The clothes Taichi had given him were well-crafted and of good quality. Though unadorned, the cut was elegant. It was the sort of outfit Yamato had chosen for himself when he was able to lounge during the day. There were no marks on his skin, no collar about his neck to signify his status...

Pain blossomed in his foot. The younger man had stepped on it.

"Your slave seems to have forgotten to assist you into your shoes, Lord," he said mockingly. "Perhaps you should punish him?"

The intent behind the words was frightening enough, but it was the taller of the two who won Yamato's attention. His eyes were cool flint with a lavender tinge, glinting with keen intelligence.

"You do know what Yagami does to his runaway slaves, don't you? He's very protective of what he feels is his."

Yamato stayed quiet, not seeing the merit in digging himself into a bigger hole.

"Tell you what: we'll do you a favor. Even if we hadn't found you, you wouldn't have gotten very far. But if you are Yagami's slave, we'd be willing to offer you a very special deal."

They knew what he was, so it was useless to pretend otherwise. "Why should I help you?"

"We want to capture him. In the chaos that would follow, you could escape. Or, we could take you with us. I'm sure our Lord would be very pleased to have such a valuable ally as Lord Yamato."

The hope that flared in him was idiotic, but he went with it anyway. "You know who I am?"

The older man gave him a secretive smile. "Your disappearance from your father's graces was noted by some of the other Lords... those not yet in power, but who will be coming to it soon. My Lord is one such man."

Another Lord. He could be moving from bad to worse, but anything was worth a shot. "What do I have to do?"

"It's simple. Just give us a signal when you're in the Lord's presence. That's all we need. He's become very reclusive since the death of his son... the firepower that we can command to extract him from this fortress is only useful if we have his immediate position."

"Why not just kill him?" Yamato couldn't see any reason in keeping the man alive when he could be just as easily killed.

"My Lord is interested in some information he believes Yagami to possess."

"And you'll take me with you?" If the men promised easily that he could come and would not be harmed, Yamato knew that they shouldn't be considered trustworthy... But the older man was seemingly honest with him.

"We'll try to take you along during the attack, but we're not going to come looking for you. You're either there, or you'll have to find your own way back."

"And if you do take me, what then?" Another test.

"You will be brought to our Lord and if you can provide him with information, either about Yagami or your father, he might consider letting you go free. If not," he shrugged. "It's your choice."

Right. Sure. There was every chance that the men's Lord was just as cruel as Yagami. Then again... Yagami was supposed to be the worst. "What assurance can you give me that I'll be treated well?"

The man swept his eyes down Yamato's form, and right then Yamato wished for a thick, long coat to hide behind. While the older man didn't give off a creepy lustful vibe, there was interest in the gaze. "My Lord is not interested in men. That should be the deciding factor for you right there. You've heard what Yagami does to people. Innocent little girls and boys, strong-hearted men and women... he breaks them all and they disappear, never to be seen again. Every once and a while, you can spot one, a shriveled empty husk of a person. But you... I bet he'd kill you once he was through, just to see how pretty you would look covered in your own blood."

Yamato fought the urge to vomit. "Now you're just trying to scare me."

"Just stating the rumors, Lord," the shorter one replied with a grim smile. Then green eyes shifted to the man's wrist, then up to the partner. "Time," he murmured, barely loud enough for Yamato to hear.

"So, are you in?" the older man asked. "Think carefully. If you're planning on leading us into a trap, don't. Just because we're picking him up alive doesn't mean we won't be packing any weapons. If we find out you've betrayed us, we'll make what Yagami will do to you look like a visit to a pleasure spa."

He wanted out. If Taichi wouldn't let him go free, he'd have to find his own way out. And who knew? Maybe Taichi had arranged for these men to find him. These past three days with Taichi had almost been fun. Even though the Lord was supposed to be his trainer, Taichi had never done anything unpleasant, or asked Yamato to do anything that felt overly uncomfortable. Yet... whatever honeymoon period he was being given to adjust would have to end. Soon Taichi would have to train him for real. And then... Yamato shivered. He didn't yearn for home, but he wanted to be away. Even if that meant putting his fate in the hands of another Lord. No one could be worse than Yagami.

"I'll do it. I'd prefer it if you killed Yagami, though."

"Sorry, Lord's orders," the younger man said. He pulled out a small device, thin and about the size of Yamato's thumbnail. "You'll be needing this then. Tuck it between your gum and cheek. Once you're in Yagami's presence and you're going to be there for more than twenty minutes, bite down on it three times to activate the signal. We'll need at least that long to mobilize our attack."

"Oh, and kid? You'll be wanting to stand away from the exterior walls, if you can. We wouldn't want you getting hurt."

The younger guard snagged the other's sleeve. "Hunter, it's time. We need --"

"HEY! You two aren't supposed to be in this area." Two more guards appeared, dressed in the same navy blue and orange uniforms. The guard who had spoken looked at Yamato. "And _you're_ not supposed to be here at all."

Shit.

Before Yamato could come up with a decent reply, Hunter drew his weapon and fired at the two newcomers. Caught unaware, both men went down. Yamato ran and checked one for a pulse. He found none. What kind of killers had he sided with?

"Don't feel too badly," the younger man said. "If they'd reported you talking to us, you could have been the one who ended up dead."

The one called Hunter gave him a dark grin. "Welcome to the conspiracy, kid."

"Night." The word filtered through his brain in a trickle as something sharp pricked the side of his arm. Yamato couldn't remember if he sank to his knees or fell.

* * *

Koushiro sucked air in slowly in the hope that it would help calm him. Unfortunately, the urge to strangle the lovesick idiot that was his friend remained. He cut Taichi off in the middle of yet another sigh of pleasure about the fact that Yamato trusted him and said brusquely, "Well, it's grand things are going well for you, but there are still some details to which you need to attend."

At the blank look Taichi gave him, Koushiro forced a smile and decided to take one thing at a time.

"For instance," he elaborated, catching that distracted gaze, "I'm going to be here in the control room, monitoring surveillance. But who's going to bring Yamato back to his room?"

Taichi frowned. "I thought we had this planned already. The doctor's supposed to dress up as the Slavemaster and take him back."

Do not strangle best friend. Suck in breath, count to ten, exhale.

"The doctor left you a message. There's been an accident at one of the project sites and he can't take time out to play dress-up."

That news, at least, sobered Taichi a little.

"Were there many deaths?"

"No, no one died, yet. But the injuries are severe. A malfunction on one of the drills caused an explosion and what few people weren't battered by the cave-in suffered the same burns from hot steam as the rest."

Taichi nodded thoughtfully. "Offer the doctor the use of the guards with medical training. We can afford to spare them tonight... At any rate, we should start the recall now so Yamato has free run of the place. How is he doing?"

Koushiro checked the monitor. "He's still in there. But he's definitely eyeing the door, so I think he's noticed it already."

He sent the message for the guards to clear the areas Yamato might wander to. The guards then had orders to remove themselves as well... except for one special set. One pair of their most trusted guards had preexisting orders to seek out Yamato and conduct a test of loyalty by offering him a way to contact his father.

Returning his attention to the monitor, he saw Yamato move hesitantly about the room, then slip out the door.

"And there he goes," Taichi said unnecessarily. It was nervous chatter. "Koushiro... this is it, right? If he doesn't try contacting anyone, then it's okay to trust him?" He was asking for reassurance that things would go well.

Normally, Koushiro would have trouble deciphering the verbal cues in order to come up with an appropriate response. But by now, he was so familiar with Taichi's self-absorbed angst, it was easy to supply the appropriate non-depressing line.

"That's the plan," the genius told him, not voicing what the alternative would be if Yamato actually _did_ contact someone. Taichi wouldn't let them plan that far ahead, so certain was he of Yamato's innocence. Koushiro had come up with a few ideas, spawned out of irritation during those times when Taichi had sealed himself in Yamato's room, the two talking about some book or playing with the chess set that Taichi had brought in.

Meanwhile, Koushiro was left to placate the frazzled members of the Council and attend to matters far more mundane than security and electronics. He now knew, for one revolting example, the precise reason why the sewer systems were flushed regularly and the exact unpleasantness that occurred when they were not.

Only slightly more disgusting were his responsibilities as a fill-in for Taichi as the "lucky" final judge of the Forty-Second Annual Yagami Okyoudango Festival. Although, of the hundreds of entries, he'd only had to taste and vote on the twenty-five 'best' -- 'best' was a subjective term. The dessert (a nasty concoction of red bean paste, natto, cayenne pepper, and flakes of salty seaweed, all bundled in mochi and topped with cherry sauce) was a regional specialty, but only about five percent of the population enjoyed it. Koushiro was intensely proud he'd not thrown up during the festival (afterwards was another story). The memory of it still made him queasy.

Taichi, of course, loved the dish and severely missed his freedom to order it from the kitchens. It had been decided long ago that if Lord Yagami ordered a dessert he publicly hated, suspicion would be cast upon his identity. The cooks, touchingly, refused to make it out of mourning for Taichi. So, Taichi had always looked forward to the festival. Until, apparently, this last time when he never showed up.

Koushiro took Taichi's forgetfulness as a sign of how serious matters were between him and Yamato. It wasn't bad that Taichi was finally interested in someone, it was the degree to which his attention dwindled in all other matters.

Normally, Taichi would be furious with himself when he found out he'd missed the so-called desserts. But this time, Koushiro wasn't so sure. Yamato's presence had changed Taichi's priorities and if the past weeks were any measure, Koushiro and the rest of the Yagami lands were at the bottom of the list.

And Koushiro was left with the happy task of keeping things running smoothly.

He'd talked with his parents and they were helping where they could, but the Council was harder to placate. The fortress didn't run itself, and the Yagami common-folk who came with requests to see their Lord had to be dealt with through other means. And through it all, each meeting, public appearance, and emergency supervision had taken time away from his own experiments and projects.

Taichi owed him... big time.

And he knew, someday, when Taichi's head was working as well as it ever did, his friend would realize all that he'd been doing and thank him. But until then, he had to grit his teeth and bear the added responsibility.

Koushiro was jolted out of his contemplative funk when several of the main surveillance cameras fritzed, then showed only snow. He tapped a few keys, trying to isolate the problem and determine its source. The answer wasn't good.

Taichi, showing a divine amount of patience, let him work in silence for a few minutes but finally asked the obligatory, "What's going on?"

"Someone who has had a lot of time to plan things is interfering with our cameras."

In the bank of monitors, at least eight were fuzzed over... including those monitoring the stairwell leading down from Taichi's floor -- Yamato's last known location.

Koushiro turned away from the screens, face grim. "I know I don't need to remind you that this is what we were worried about. We need to find out where Yamato is."

He watched Taichi's expression change from anxious lover to hard-set leader. Finally, some sense! "Well, we know he _was_ in the stairwell," Taichi said, thinking aloud. "And the only exits are the ground floor, mid-fortress, and back the way he came... Do you think he'll go all the way down to the bottom?"

"It is possible. But I have much tighter security on the base floor. Likewise, there won't be a problem if he decides to return to his room. But, as per your request, he'll have mostly free-reign if he exits mid-fortress. That sector is entirely cleared except for two of our best guards. If they don't find him on that floor, they will proceed to the lowest one and search for him there."

All while he had been talking, Koushiro had been calling up various subroutines in an effort to discover the source of the disturbance. Nothing. Whoever they were, they were good and had known exactly what he'd be looking for. He didn't vent his frustration on the keyboard -- that might have damaged the equipment -- but he did slam his hands down upon the desk that supported it. Several times.

"What makes me worried," he continued, "Is that the hacked cameras are positioned in the stairwell, on the middle exit, and in the halls and rooms surrounding the exit."

Taichi nodded. "Someone thinks he'll be heading there, then. Notify the guards in that area of the situation. I'll go down and scope it out."

Koushiro pinned Taichi with a hard look and finished relaying the orders over the headset. "I've notified the guards, but you're not going down there. They could be after you, Taichi. Something odd is going on and you have to keep yourself protected."

"Well, what if they're after you?" Taichi retorted.

Koushiro was unimpressed with the creative thinking and refused to respond with anything other than a roll of his eyes.

"Maybe they're tired of having their attacks always foiled by a computer genius and _you're_ the one they want out of the way," Taichi barreled on. "Can you prove that I'm the only target? That I'm the only person in danger?"

No, Koushiro couldn't.

Logic dictated that the leader of a group would be the one under attack, but in a long history of military coups, a body could be hindered in more ways than just by losing its head.

"No," he admitted, "There's no concrete proof that the coded messages are coordinating an attack on you. But, it makes the most sense. You have to be cautious."

"Koushiro, I want to go and see for myself what's going on. This is _my_ fortress. I'm cooped up in it as it is. I'm not going to suddenly limit myself to a single room just because it's easier to defend."

Taichi must have seen it in his face that Koushiro was still not won over to his side, and he pulled out his trump card.

"I could order you to let me go check."

Koushiro ground his teeth in frustration. Anything that had to do with Yamato somehow interfered with his friend's mental reasoning and sense of self-preservation. And pulling rank was just a dirty move.

"This conversation is quickly going nowhere," he informed the lovesick idiot. "I won't follow an order that's not in your best interests, and in a situation like this one, you will not be safe. You could be walking into a trap."

"When would they have had time to plan? If Yama--"

"They could have developed some new form of technology that I don't recognize. I may be intelligent, Taichi, but I don't know everything."

Koushiro swore to take an embarrassing revenge on Taichi for his loud bark of laughter. Acting more like a juvenile and less like the man Koushiro knew he could be, Taichi continued laughing.

"That's a first," his so-called friend said between gasping chuckles. "You don't have something recording in here, do you? I'd like to keep it if you do. I could win _so_ many bets... Hey, don't look like that. I'd split the winnings with you 70/30." His eyebrows waggled in a most nauseating fashion.

That's it, you stupid idiot. Go ahead. Get yourself killed.

"Fine," he said in his most scathing tone. He rummaged in a neatly organized bin of electronic equipment and threw the headset he found there to Taichi, trusting the man to catch the delicate piece of plastic and circuitry.

"Put that on. It runs on a more secure channel than the ones worn by the guards. You'll be in constant communication with me. And... you should take a team of guards with you."

Taichi shook his head. "I'll move faster alone. I'll take a stunner with me."

_If he dies, the fool deserves it,_ Koushiro thought irrationally. He ran his fingers through unruly carrot-colored curls. Dealing with Taichi was giving him a headache.

"Whatever. Just promise me that if you do see that there's trouble, you won't just go charging in. Promise to go for backup."

Taichi sighed and Koushiro could tell that he was thinking it over... a good thing in and of itself... but it was taking too long for him to actually give his word.

"_Taichi_," Koushiro warned. "This careless disregard for your own safety is incredibly foolish and I expected better from you. Your father would have expected better, as well." Taichi wasn't the only one with a trump card to play.

Taichi gave him an angry glare, but it eventually softened as his brain finally processed a portion of the wisdom Koushiro was trying to instill in him.

"All right," he promised. "I'll be careful and I'll call for backup if it looks like there's trouble."

Koushiro leaned back in his chair and let Taichi find his own way out. He was tired from this battle of wills. But before too much time had passed, he struggled upright and monitored Taichi's progress as far as the functioning cameras allowed.

"Okay," he spoke into the matching headset. "You're in the area I don't have a visual on, so be damn sure you tell me what's going on."

"Gotcha." The reply was good-natured, but deliberately soft. Koushiro was pleased. At least Taichi was attempting some small degree of stealth by lowering the volume of his voice. "This area looks entirely deserted. Just like we'd planned."

"Well, I doubt the wires just disconnected or disrupted themselves," Koushiro replied acidly. "So keep a sharp eye out."

A soft grunt was his only answer. They maintained radio silence then, but the headset was tuned fine enough so that Koushiro could still catch whispers of Taichi's breaths. Then, there was particularly loud breath. The sound of quick, heavy footsteps.

"Shit," Taichi swore. "Taran and Chutsu are dead."

Taran and Chutsu. Dead. The news of his friends' deaths seeped in slowly. As mere words transformed into meaning, his numbness transformed into rage.

That... murdering... whore...

"What about your precious Yamato?" Koushiro found himself saying much more calmly than he thought possible.

"He's here," Taichi's voice answered. "Unconscious."

Koushiro counted ten slow breaths.

"You know this proves you can't trust him."

"I know." Taichi's voice sounded weak, hollow.

Why does being right have to feel so bad?

* * *

The knots in the laces of the harem-style pants dissolved quickly under her nimble fingers and the garment was exchanged for soft cotton trousers that were noticeably designed more for the wearer's comfort than for their sex appeal.

Mimi slid the faded silk camisole down over her head and pulled out the hair trapped against her neck. Long, thick strands fanned out like a pink veil around her shoulders and the scent of lilies wafted out with the motion. The scent of the flower seemed to be a comfort to Lord Jyou, so Mimi saw that her bath each day was fragranced with the oil from the pink blossoms. Although she rarely noticed women using that particular scent, there was no short supply of it. Truthfully, Mimi was not overly fond of lilies, but it was not her opinion that mattered. As long as her Lord provided the bath oil, she would use it and in doing so, she would have yet another way of pleasing him.

The well-worn bedroom wear was also part of her Lord's desire.

After three nights of showing him the new outfits she had acquired, Lord Jyou had requested a 'quiet evening' -- his code that all he wanted from her on the coming night was cuddling. Overall, quiet evenings outnumbered the times he sought his pleasure in her. And in the beginning, such behavior had distressed her.

* * *

When she had first been gifted to Lord Jyou, after the initial relief over not being given to his father or older brothers, she had worried greatly that he was displeased with her. He summoned her to his bed only reluctantly. And while the techniques she had been trained in made him writhe and moan uncontrollably, there was a weight and strain in his eyes that never diminished even in his throes of passion. Still, he never voiced any displeasure. In fact, he was never harsh with her, nor did he ever speak sharply to her, or even raise his voice.

Mimi spent two whole seasons wondering each day if, that day, her kind master, with his gentle and slightly hesitant voice, would inform her that she was being sold. But eventually, one summer's evening, she discovered the truth. Her master was living under the crazed impression that she did not enjoy her duties. He had ranted, in a fit of passion, ebony eyes blazing, that she should have been taught to read and do figures, should have been given a choice of professions, and that she should have been allowed to fall in love and choose the person she wanted to be joined with.

Mimi had laughed at the last. Even among the free-born women, as far as she knew, marrying for love was rarely practiced. But Lord Jyou was always speaking old, outdated things, odd sounding expressions, or sometimes entirely incomprehensible statements, that he had gleaned out of ancient texts. His favorite saying for when something was impossible was, 'Pigs will fly first!' She had little knowledge of pigs and so he had shown her a picture of one and patiently explained that the pork that they ate on occasion came from pigs. But that discovery had come later.

That summer night, he had looked hurt by her laughter. The sorrow etched into his face made his cheeks appear sunken and hollow. And before she could reassure him that she was happy with him, he seemed to be very aged, as if the gentlest of breezes might set him drifting away. But then she had placed her head down upon his lap and breathed in the musty scent that always clung to him whenever he spent time with his precious books. She told him of her happiness, of her gratitude, of her love. She showed him passion that night.

The following morning, her lessons began -- not in the seductive arts, for she was already highly trained in that respect, but in reading, mathematics, and history. The last two, she studied only briefly. Although history was one of Lord Jyou's two main delights, medicine being the other, Mimi could not bring herself to care for events so far removed from her life. Nor had she any skill at committing to memory the names of places, people, or important dates or events. The more he tried to teach her, the more muddled she became. The day she burst into tears at his mention of another session of instruction was the day the history lessons stopped.

So, too, with the lessons in figuring. After much effort, he finally pronounced her adequate in addition, subtraction, multiplication and division. But when he began to speak of numbers smaller than one, or using symbols that were not numbers in order to find other numbers, she had broken down into tears yet again and he had let her stop with a fond smile, a pat on the shoulder, and his soft voice telling her not to worry because he would take care of her.

In truth, the most useful information she got out of the history and mathematics lessons was the knowledge that she could control him with her tears. It was powerful knowledge, indeed, and to this point she had not abused it.

Oddly, though, she had better luck with reading and writing. She mastered the two basic sets of characters in less than a month and thereafter, she learned several _kanji_ each day. In a way that the dates and numbers had not, the flowing stylized ideographs made sense in her mind.

Lord Jyou had given her some poetry to copy for practice. Her first attempt, which she had scribbled only hastily in order to get the strokes flowing correctly, he had seized up and proclaimed it to be a work of art. Embarrassingly enough, it hung on his bedroom wall in a frame of precious wood. Calligraphy was now her hobby, and with her permission and at the request those who had seen her scribblings, Lord Jyou sold her efforts as artwork. _Shodou_, as Lord Jyou informed her, used to be the past-time of noble women. He always laughed with sad eyes whenever he mentioned the irony of it now being done by slaves.

As she learned, he gave her things to read. Sometimes they were items from his own collections, sometimes they were things he thought she might enjoy. She read them dutifully and engaged in conversation with Lord Jyou about them, but she did so for his pleasure only. He meant well, and put obvious thought into his gifts, but so much of what she was given dealt with ways of life that were entirely foreign -- females ordering men about, a history of women doctors, even a silly love romance about a queen torn between her husband and his best warrior.

None of it spoke to her place in life: an ignorant girl who would die or be very miserable without the kindness of her master. Lord Jyou didn't understand that she would never be able to take charge and make good decisions. She was a slave, and her lot in life was to be subservient and do exactly as he commanded. He praised her, every so often, for what he termed 'independent thinking'. Yet for all his compliments of her, she always felt like she was disappointing him somehow. If she knew what he wanted from her, she would have done her best in trying to mold herself into that image. But if what he really wanted was to teach her how to behave like an aggressive Lord, he could sooner teach a pig to fly.

Quickly, though, she did become skilled in reading and there was one set of books she did enjoy. Less than a year ago, on a day he had claimed was her twentieth birthday, Lord Jyou had given her a set of books so old they were nearly dust and an accompanying datapad of the text. They were collectively known as _The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night_ and before beginning her reading, Mimi feared that they would be as dull and obsolete as everything else her Lord had graciously given her to improve her mind with. But instead, she found herself drawn to the woman called Scheherazade. The woman was a skilled seductress, with the only thing keeping the blade from her neck being the stories with which she entertained her Lord. Altogether, Mimi found their positions not so dissimilar. For all that her Lord reassured her otherwise, she knew he would keep her only as long as she pleased him. And rather than be sent to another, she would prefer death.

The stories Scheherazade told were odd, fanciful tales, filled with strange places and animals... even magical creatures known as djinn, who were terrifyingly powerful and could grant the wishes of their masters. But, as in the life she knew, those who had the power would kill or trick into death those who sought to yoke their strength. Mimi refused to let her mind dwell on the danger. Her master had promised that he would care for her, and he had kept that promise. She knew one day he would have to break it, sending her away to serve another master, but for now she let herself be happy and tried to please him as best she could.

Her life had changed much in the four years that she had served Lord Jyou. She knew she was much better off than most of the girls who had been trained with her. Many were dead, maimed, or suffering through their days and screaming through their nights. It was not often that she heard the fate of her fellow slaves, but if one knew where and when to listen, like in the bathing pools early in the morning, one could hear talk that otherwise would be silenced.

Three and a half years had passed since that summer night. Since then, she and her master had reached many subtle agreements, like the practical sleepwear and her reading lessons, that often went against tradition... Lord Jyou said he was training her as his assistant. It was unworthy of her, but, in that, she thought him to be a fool. Inside these rooms, he could pretend that she was anything he wanted and she would try her hardest to be what he wanted her to be. Outside, Lord Kidou was master, and he would not be one to tolerate her presence aside from being a sexual accessory. But she loved Lord Jyou. He was her master and she would do as he commanded, even if it meant her death.

* * *

Mimi hummed a child's lullaby as she turned down the covers on the bed and lit the scattered candles, softening the severity of the pristinely neat room. Her motions were unhurried, for Lord Jyou's attention had once more been captured by manuals and medical texts. She knew from long experience that he would not stir from his desk until she came to woo him to bed for a few hours' sleep.

Lord Jyou loved the study of human physiology as much, if not more, than his love of history. Mimi found the medical knowledge more useful than historical, as it could be put to pleasurable use in the bedroom. But no matter what her Lord was studying, she knew that he would sooner spend the entire night in his study, slumped over his desk, than voluntarily coming to sleep in an actual bed.

As her Lord had always cared and provided for her since she was presented to him, she felt honored to care for him by seeing that he got decent amounts of sleep. Finishing her preparations, Mimi was pleased with this night's effort to lure him to bed. She was giving the room one last surveying glance when a soft knock sounded at the main door. Her Lord barely ever registered the chime, let alone a quiet knock, so Mimi herself went to answer the door. The caller had probably not used the chime in case they were already in bed and not wishing to be disturbed.

Lord Shin's personal servant was standing in the hallway, his body alert and unslouched despite the late hour.

"I've a personal message for Lord Jyou." He paused, then looked her up and down, taking in the scruffy pants and the faded top with a disapproving frown. "I can see that the little boy has ordered you ready for bed, so you can wait there while I deliver the message."

He made to step away, then turned back smirking. "You know, I've been curious. Is it that you're so talented in bed that you don't need to step into something less comfortable to please him, or is he really just as dickless as they claim?" The words were spoken with soft malice and there was a warning glint in his eye advising that her answer had better be just as softly spoken.

Mimi's cheeks flushed in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration, the latter being worse than the former. She was used to being stared at, but it was horrible the way her master was treated by his peers and even the servants and slaves of his brothers. If they couldn't find a way to mock him to his face, they often asked her difficult questions, like the one just now, in an effort to dishonor him. And as a pleasure slave, there was little she could do to avoid the comments.

Her voice stumbled over the words. "I-it is to be a quiet evening tonight," she offered, hoping that the man would let her go, get on with his own business, and leave quickly.

The manservant's stomach rumbled in silent laughter and she hung her head further in shame. Again, she'd said the wrong thing and caused more disgrace to her master. Her eyes darted in the direction of her Lord's study. Perhaps she should let him know he had company. Usually, she would deal with any slaves delivering trays unless Lord Jyou had specified that he wished to speak to them. But this man was no slave... though a servant, he was Lord Shin's most trusted man.

"I-I'll..." her voice quavered.

He caught her by the arm, not quite tight enough to bruise -- they were all much more careful after that last incident. He turned her in the direction of the bedroom.

"Go along now, in you go. I don't think this will take long at all."

She shivered despite the warmth of the room. His smile was evil. Yet her conditioning kicked in. "Yes, sir. I will do your bidding," she responded meekly. Eyes downcast, she did as she was told, but in defiance, she left the bedroom door open. If they talked loud enough, she just might be able to hear what was being said. Mimi felt herself blushing at the thought. It was one of her worst faults. She was an 'incurable gossip,' or so Lord Jyou told her frequently, usually after she had related the information she gathered at the baths.

The man made no sound as he moved through the rooms and all she heard was a low thump to signal Lord Jyou's noticing of the man. It was most likely a book dropping from his hands in surprise. Her Lord tended to scare easily.

Regretfully, any words said were spoken too softly to be heard. She had no true knowledge of why Lord Shin's man would be here so late in the evening. The smile he had given her... it had seemed like his message made him happy... which usually meant that Lord Jyou would soon be unhappy.

Mimi crept to the door and held her breath, straining her ears to catch the faintest wisp of sound. Papers were being shuffled, but still no voices. Surely, they would be talking by now. Although she knew her Lord would be severely displeased if he caught her sneaking in on private conversations again, she followed her curiosity and left the bedroom behind. Her bare feet were noiseless as they moved across the carpet. A few inches more, and she'd be able to see around the corner into her master's study. A loud crash brought her to a halt just before the doorway.

Still no voices.

After tucking her hair into the shirt so that it couldn't swing out and betray her presence, she angled her face past the frame so that only a portion of an eye peeked out at the scene.

The sight she witnessed took her breath away. The man was using a folded length of silk to strangle Lord Jyou! For precious moments as her Lord's face was flushed a dark purple from lack of oxygen, she was silent. Then her breath returned in staccato half-breaths, her limbs trembling twice as much as her lungs. There was nobody she could call. No one was there to come to his defense, no one would be able to get there in time, and as she felt her blood chill, she realized the great likelihood that all of the important people in the fortress already knew about the attack. Certainly Lord Shin, and most likely Lord Kidou himself as well. The father encouraged sibling rivalry and had refused to name an heir so that his twin sons would fight for the honor. The loss of his seemingly worthless youngest son would mean little to the man.

But maybe Master's other brother, Lord Shun...

He had helped her gather decorations for the rooms earlier. Like the others, he still mercilessly teased his younger brother, but there was always less spite with him. Yet his rooms were so far away... even if she could reach them, there wouldn't be enough time. Lord Jyou was nearly...

No... Master... No...

His body was released to fall limply on his desk, the ends of the silk still trailing from his neck like a winter scarf.

"Weakling," the man pronounced. Then he turned from his victim. The disgust on his face turned to a wide smile when he saw her. "You really should have stayed in the bedroom and waited for me to come kill you."

!!!

She tried to turn and run, but she found herself backing away from him into a wall as he advanced.

"It's a shame he taught you so much. It's spoiled you from your true purpose in life. Even when relaxing, a true pleasure slave would never allow herself to wear something as unappealing as these old rags." From a pocket, he drew a kitchen knife, like one of the ones that were sent along with dinner. "It's such a shame that all those ideas in your head caused you to strangle your own master in his sleep, then kill yourself for your crime."

He was standing in front of her now, the knife extended toward her face. Her knees went weak, then gave way and she slithered to the ground, legs spread. He remained standing, but bent down so close that his rough beard scratched her face. The knife was pressed to her neck, holding her motionless as his free hand ran from the inside of her knee to poke at the cloth that covered a place no one but Lord Jyou had touched in years. She whimpered and writhed to get away. He seemed to enjoy her struggles.

"A whore to the end. It figures you'd want to die that way." The hand that had been prodding at her moved up to maul her breast, but after an eternity he finally left off with one last brutal caress. "Sorry to disappoint, girlie, but I don't like to sully myself with unclean things."

Lord Jyou...

He was dead, and soon she would join him, the blame for both their ends placed on her bare shoulders. She was smacked a heavy blow across the head, the resulting movement causing the knife to dig into her throat a little.

"But I think artfully sprawled on your bed would be a better place for your suicide, so come along like a good little dead girl." He leaned closer, the knife still at her throat, his other hand reaching behind her back to pick her up. That he was being so careless with his own safety showed how little he feared her.

Truly, she was little threat. Her head ached fiercely and her vision blurred if she moved her eyes too quickly. Through her failing senses, though, she saw Lord Jyou's face over the corner of the man's shoulder.

One blow, placed with a doctor's precision, later... her Lord was tugging the larger man's body away from hers. The silk, though loosened, was still wrapped about his neck. He offered her a hand.

"Can you stand?" he asked hoarsely.

She thought she could, and gave a shaky nod. He helped her to her feet and once she was standing, she flung herself into his arms, unable to keep back her large, gulping sobs. There, she was able to relax a bit, listening to his breathing. It was fast and heavy because of his sudden exertion, _but he was breathing_ and she was too happy for words to see him alive.

An arm wrapped around her for support, then he tilted her head back and ran gentle fingers against her neck. Slate blue eyes searched hers and she found it wasn't only the blow to the head that left her slightly dazed.

"You aren't hurt anywhere else?"

She managed to shake her head 'no' without setting off a fresh wave of dizziness.

"I'm going to let you go now," he warned. "We have to leave here. This place isn't safe." He looked her over from top to bottom. "Put on something warm and darkly colored." He frowned, already beginning to search through his papers and stacks of datapads. "Wear your heaviest pair of slippers. I'm not sure where we'll end up."

She went at a stumbling run to obey his command. A last minute thought had her packing up the expensive jewels she wore to official dinners in a fold of cloth.

"Here," she said, offering the bundle to him. "The jewelry you gave me. We can use it for money if you have trouble using your father's credit."

Lord Jyou smiled at her encouragingly and ran an affectionate hand across her cheek. "That's a good idea, Mimi. Thank you." He glanced about the room. "I don't suppose we have a knapsack around here, do we?"

She went and retrieved her Lord's battered medical kit from where it rested against a bookcase in the corner. She'd seen Lord Jyou working with it and knew that while it was well-stocked, there was enough room in it to fit some smaller items.

"We could put our things in here," she volunteered.

His brow wrinkled. "It's not too heavy for you? I'll need my hands free and we'll have to move quickly."

She wouldn't be weak. He wasn't leaving her to be executed. If her Lord was honoring her by taking her with him in his flight, she would not fail him.

"I can manage it, my Lord."

He looked at her with uncertainty, then his eyes darted yearningly at the case. "It would be nice to have it along."

She could tell that he was already preparing himself to do without the kit. "I can carry it. I know how precious it is to you."

"It's just an object, Mimi," he said, stroking her cheek again.

"Please, let me be of service, Lord Jyou?"

He held her close and breathed deeply into her hair. "All right," he conceded, finally pulling away. "Put the jewelry in there... and this." He took a wrapped package from inside his shirt and placed it into her hands. From the weight and feel, it contained datapads and a sheaf of papers. "They'll be safer with you, I suppose."

Knowing that he wouldn't answer any questions now, Mimi nodded, then looked around, trying to think of anything else they might need. She bit the inside of her cheek nervously. The body she had crossed over to re-enter the study had been still a few moments ago, but now the muscles in the man's hand were subtly flexing open and closed. He was waking up!

"Lord, what are you going to do with him?"

Her master looked over to where his attacker lay, and his face filled with sorrow. He crossed around the desk to a hidden safe box that opened with a loud, unoiled creak. He stood with a stun gun in his hand and fired two blasts in fatal short succession. The first blast stunned, the second killed. The twitching stopped.

"We're lucky he was ordered to make it look like you had killed me. If he came after me with one of these, I'd be dead. The fools think I don't keep one of these hidden in here."

"I'm sorry," she told him, remembering that it was she who had let the murderer in unannounced.

He stroked her hair. "It's all right. I'm safe and you're safe." He shook his head. "I knew they were planning something, but I didn't think..." He sighed. "This wasn't what I was expecting."

"Where will we go? Will your father...?"

His grimace cut her off. "No. If he's not directly behind this, I'm sure he's supporting my brother's actions somehow. We'll hide for a while, then try to sneak out in a transport." His expression changed, as if he were remembering something. "Do we have any food stashed away in here?"

He looked at her hopefully, probably remembering times when he had asked her to send for a snack and she had appeared with a treat in far less time than it would have taken for a slave to be sent up from the kitchens. Unfortunately, she had made up the last snack for him several days ago and she'd not been down to the storage rooms since. She shook her head, hating herself for her incompetence as his face fell. He caught her chin and forced her to meet his gaze.

"I know my family thinks I'm soft and weak, but I'll protect you. We'll get through this somehow." He gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. "Ready? Let's go."

There was another man stationed outside the door. He was easier to get rid of than their first attacker, probably because he wasn't expecting the other man to fail, but their luck ended there. Barring her more intense training sessions, the next twelve hours -- spent running and hiding, killing and sneaking -- were the worst hours in her life.

* * *

Yamato woke up in his old room. The first thing he did was check that the transmitter was still secreted in his cheek. Finding it still there, he heaved a sigh and wondered what to do with it. He could keep it there -- the disc was thin enough to rest in the pocket next to his gum without causing any obstruction, but it might be better to hide it for the time being. His options were few in this room and he finally settled for nudging it into the crack between the baseplate and the carpet in the far corner of the room.

Once the transmitter was hidden, Yamato relaxed into the bare mattress. With the room empty, there wasn't anything to do but stare into oblivion. The lights were off and the beacon-like glow of the environmental control panel was also absent. While one part of him wondered who had brought him to his first room, another part hoped that it had been Taichi. Though, if it had been Taichi, was he disappointed Yamato had not made the best of the chance he had been given to escape? Or...

His thoughts turned dark. Had the whole thing been a test, one he had failed? The longer time stretched, the more he believed the latter explanation. They were letting him suffer from his own mental tortures. Although, if he was to be punished, Yamato doubted Yagami would stop at sending him to his room to think about what he'd done wrong.

His worrying was exhausting and it was hours later as he lightly dozed that he finally heard footsteps in the hall. When the person entered the room, Yamato knew without opening his eyes that it was Taichi. The gait as he crossed the room to stand by the bed, though not light, was soft and sure. Taichi's own unique scent was strong in the air, as if he'd recently gone through a heavy workout. As a final clue, there was the lack of sound. Taichi was waiting for him to speak, for him to explain. Anyone else would have been yelling or inflicting violence by now.

"It was an accident, wasn't it, the door being left open," he said, speaking the thoughts that had been swirling in his mind earlier. "And I screwed up." He kept his eyes shut, not wanting to see the emotions on Taichi's face. He didn't want to see the disappointment. If he looked up, it would make what was about to happen next all the more difficult to take. He had taken a chance and had screwed up. Now he would be punished. "Do what you have to do," he said, his voice scarcely louder than a whisper.

"All right," Taichi's voice replied with equal softness, confirming Yamato's other senses and adding to his worry over what was to come.

Shivers went down his spine. Taichi didn't sound angry... but Masaharu never had either before he'd decided to administer a punishment. Yamato felt the man's weight settle next to him on the mattress -- close enough to feel his warmth. But it wasn't close enough. Yamato found himself wanting Taichi's embrace, his reassurance that everything would be all right. The minuscule gap between them signaled so much.

If it had been a test, Taichi should have received unpleasant orders from Yagami after the failed escape attempt. But would he follow his orders or would he go easy? Unable to stop himself, Yamato dared a look at Taichi's face -- no anger, no sadness, no disappointment, nor regret -- just the same easy smile he'd been wearing over the past few days. Though, there was a bit more tension around his eyes than normal. Taichi was holding something back; but in his quick peek, Yamato didn't get the feeling it was too terrible.

Maybe he isn't here to punish me, after all.

Allowing himself to hope the other man also felt a bond growing between them, Yamato turned on the mattress so that he was facing the Lord. Once situated, he directed another brief glance at Taichi. "So, am I in trouble?"

Strong arms wrapped around his torso and he was pulled to Taichi's chest even as the other shifted backwards to take support from the wall. One arm stayed curled around his body, while the other raised to stroke his hair. Yamato put up no resistance, but Taichi's iron-cored gentleness made him quiver.

"Shhhh," the brunet calmed him, continuing the petting. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. Just relax."

The sincerity and affection coloring the words invited Yamato to burrow into Taichi's offered warmth. Yamato's head tucked beneath Taichi's chin and the Lord's arms wrapped around Yamato to cement the embrace.

With his nose pressed closely into the fabric of Taichi's uniform, it was no secret the man had been exercising recently.

Exercising... or having sex...

Yamato wondered if Taichi had to serve in his master's bed. Did Yagami force his protégé, or was it one more concession that Taichi made in payment for his tutelage?

Yamato turned so that he could see the side of Taichi's neck. There were no bites, bruises, or other possessive marks -- _just perfectly smooth caramel-colored skin._ He let his head rest on Taichi's shoulder and after several deep inhalations, he could rule out the possibility of Taichi's having had sex. There were traces of salt and sweat, but no musk of bedroom activities. For reasons that were better left unexamined, the information made him happy and he finally let himself enjoy the moment.

They lay there, breathing quietly in unison, Taichi continuing to let his hands roam free. The more attuned to Taichi's body that Yamato became, however, the more he sensed a deeply buried tension in the other. Something definitely wasn't right. Yamato tried to pull back so he could see Taichi's face, but Taichi held him tighter and he ended up speaking into the man's shoulder, the words muffled but understandable.

"Something's wrong, isn't it?" Yamato asked.

"What could be wrong?" Taichi asked a little too mildly.

Yamato tried to pull away again and couldn't. Suddenly, Taichi's embrace wasn't so comforting.

"I-I... I'm not sure." He stroked the fabric-covered muscles of Taichi's arm, trying to coax them into opening, yet those muscles were now rigid. "You don't seem quite yourself. I should..." He tried to pull away a third time, but Taichi kept his grip. Though he struggled fiercely, Yamato couldn't escape. "Let. Me. Go."

Being pinned so effectively made him angry, but before he could resort to raising his voice, Taichi set him at arm's length and looked him in the eye.

"What happened, Yamato?" the Lord asked quietly, holding him firmly in place.

Yamato made a few more token struggles, then subsided. "What do you mean?"

Taichi's jaw clenched and his eyes hardened to brown stone. The fingers gripping Yamato's arms were just short of bruising and the tension Yamato had felt beneath Taichi's surface was now manifesting as anger.

Masaharu's temper had always been dangerous, but it was predictable in its own way. Taichi's quiet fury was intense and unrelenting. The hopes Yamato had entertained about Taichi letting him go free weakened and crumbled to dust. Still, if Yamato could understand what had brought about this display of anger, then maybe he could find a way to soften it.

Taichi jerked him uncomfortably closer and answered his unasked question. "Two of my best men are dead."

_His men? Taichi's men?_ Was this proof that his 'escape' really was a test?

"You mean Lord Yagami's men, don't you?" Taichi's stern look remained. "So, leaving the door open was a test after all."

"Test or not, two men are dead," the other responded sharply. "Do you even care?" Taichi's eyes searched his and Yamato stared back. After a moment, the man snorted, apparently not liking what he found. "Probably not. I hadn't thought you'd be like this, but I guess it's not so surprising."

Yamato would put up with a lot, but he didn't like the disgust in Taichi's expression. The two men had been guards. If they'd done their duty properly, they would still be alive. And anyway, early death was in the job description for fortress guards. "They died. So what? They were guards," he tossed back, then repeated the rest of his thoughts aloud.

Taichi's fury built and his face darkened further, full-blown rage held back by withering control. From the twitching of his arms, it appeared the Lord was only barely keeping himself from shaking Yamato. "I don't know how it is where you were raised, but here, we make what family we can out of the survivors around us. Every life is precious. Those men were doing their duty to protect the people of this fortress. And instead of celebrating with them, the people who considered them closer than true kin will have to mourn their loss. Death just doesn't affect the deceased party, Yamato."

Yamato shifted uncomfortably. Of course they had lives, were something more than two hired guns. It was just... there was nothing he could do about it now. They were already dead and he'd been knocked unconscious a short while after they had been killed. It hadn't been his fault and he didn't know why Taichi was taking it so personally. There was nothing he could do to change the present, so why the lecture?

"Does human life mean so little to you?" Taichi demanded.

"Of course not." He wasn't so jaded yet, he was just practical about what he could do and what he could not. Here, he was a prisoner and had even less power than before. "It's not that. I just..." Caught between anger, frustration, and guilt, he hung his head. What else could he say? He moved again to get free and Taichi let him go at last. On the mattress, he let his head fall back and hit the wall, his eyes closed against Taichi's disappointment.

Things were so different from this morning when he'd been content in thinking Taichi was helping him escape. But now, whatever soft spot he had made in Taichi's heart was shrinking. He could see it in Taichi's eyes. Worst of all, there was still nothing he could say to make it better... Or maybe... Taichi was just looking for an apology? Could it be so simple?

"Taichi, I'm sorry they were killed. I thought you were letting me go. I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt."

Taichi shifted closer and tipped Yamato's chin in his direction with a finger. Yamato didn't fight him, but he refused to meet the brown eyes.

"Look at me," the order came.

He kept his eyes closed, but soon came a touch that tucked mussed hair behind an ear, then ran down to stroke his neck, massaging the flesh there. A thumb brushed across his lips. "Look at me," Taichi said, his voice textured with a throaty purr that was sending so many shivers down Yamato's spine it had to be deliberate.

It didn't occur to Yamato that Taichi was using their mutual attraction to manipulate him until he looked up and saw Taichi's face inches from his own, lips dangerously close.

Taichi rewarded his unintentional obedience by smoothing small circles into the tension of his neck.

"What happened, Yamato?" Calmer now, the fury leashed and hidden away, Taichi's gaze was still interrogative, but it seemed that he truly wished to understand.

Even so, Yamato had no clue where to begin. He didn't know what Taichi wanted to hear, so he said nothing. Taichi kept pressing.

"You didn't kill them yourself. Who did you meet?"

Yamato looked away. "I don't know." If he had lost favor with Taichi, he would need the men to escape. And anyway, he honestly didn't know who they were.

Taichi didn't give up. "Who are you in contact with? Your father's men?"

Yamato snorted, fixing Taichi with a skeptical eye. There was no way Taichi could believe that. "You think my _father's_ behind this? He's the one who sold me in the first place." If Taichi actually thought his father was involved, the man was less intelligent than Yamato gave him credit for.

His annoyance must have showed, for Taichi broke out a one-sided smile. "All right, if not your father, then who? You met somebody," he insisted.

"I don't know." It was difficult to think up a believable lie that would get Taichi to stop questioning him.

Taichi's smile disappeared. "I'm not an idiot, Yamato. Two people are dead. I want to know who you met and I don't want there to be three bodies in the morgue."

Yamato's heart sped up. He gulped. "I- Are you..." _Was that a threat???_

Taichi closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "No, I'm not going to hurt you. I just need to be sure that no one else gets hurt. I need to know who these people are. Or who they work for, at least."

The men had said that they were working for a Lord, but hadn't said which one. Despite this, Taichi was expecting him to know something. After a brief weighing of the pros and cons, Yamato decided to feed him his best educated guess. Kidou was almost as much of a bastard as Yagami. It was likely he _was_ the one pulling the strings. If not, he deserved whatever trouble the lie would cause.

He coaxed some nervous sincerity into his expression and dared to lock eyes with Taichi as he spoke. "They might have been Lord Kidou's men," Yamato said, his voice trailing off in scripted uncertainty.

"I see." There was no surprise in Taichi's voice. Apparently, the lie was believed. "And how are you in contact with them?"

His mind flicked over to the transmitter hidden in the corner and he licked his lips. Taichi's eyes followed the action. "I'm not in contact with anyone," Yamato lied again. He didn't want to burn the shaky bridge of trust with his possible rescuers. There was no way he'd tell Taichi about the transmitter. "They said they would find me again."

Brown eyes narrowed, but eventually, this also seemed to satisfy Taichi. "What do they want?" he asked.

"I don't know." Another lie. If they wanted Yagami's head on a platter, Yamato wasn't going to make it more difficult for them. But Taichi was frowning. Did he think he was in danger? "I won't let them hurt you, Taichi," he said, realizing the statement was true as the words left his lips.

For all that Yagami had ordered his protégé to break him, Taichi was doing a horrible job. Unless, this was all part of a bigger scheme... Yamato pushed the swirl of possible mind games from his thoughts, refusing to consider them. If he didn't trust Taichi, he had no stable point on which to build his hopes. And there was the feeling of something... an intangible thread binding them together... that he couldn't shake. Now that Taichi's anger was fading, being muted in the Lord's true attempt to understand, it was easy to remember his many kind gestures. Taichi had risked much in befriending him. If the men forced him to choose between his freedom and Taichi's life... "I won't let them hurt you," he repeated, hoping it wouldn't come to that.

Taichi looked up, face intent. "So you have some control over them?"

Was that the implication? Yamato reviewed his words.

Dammit. He's sharper than he lets himself appear... and he's right. It does sound like I can tell them what to do, but really...

If the men tried to attack Taichi, there wasn't much he could do about it. An image of the guard's lifeless eyes came unbidden into his mind, the picture twisting so that it looked as if it were Taichi who stared up at him with unseeing brown eyes. He shook off the strangely vivid picture, a chill striking through him. He didn't want that.

"No, I just meant that if they tried to hurt you, I would do my best to stop them," he said, attempting to cover both his mistake and the slight admission of desire.

Taichi inclined his head, a knowing look in his eye. That he didn't comment was just one more item to add to the list of things he could've done to hurt Yamato but had not.

To Yamato, Taichi's simple gifts -- whether food, clothing, company, or kindness -- made all the difference in the world.

"You've been good to me," he spoke, directing the words into his lap.

Taichi reached out and cupped his face in one hand. "I'm glad you finally noticed." He let out a soft sigh of exasperation. "I _am_ trying to help you, but things are complicated." His thumb moved tenderly in a caress. "What am I going to do with you?"

Those words... he'd heard them before... somewhere... _'What am I going to do with you?'_

"Just love me." The words were out before Yamato could think. Unbidden to his lips, they had come as an echo of Yamato's memory, the oft-used phrase of a person long-since forgotten. a person, long-since forgotten. The words carried Taichi back in surprise and though equally surprised at himself, Yamato decided the request was true enough. The attraction between them was too hard to ignore. If Taichi loved him, or even cared for him, maybe everything could be okay.

If Taichi loved him, things would be so much simpler. He'd have an ally, someone to help defend him from Yagami. It wouldn't be too difficult to help Taichi shift from attraction to desire... but first he had to reassure the Lord. Taichi was standing frozen, trying to gauge Yamato's request, with a mix of panic, desire, and shock distorting his calm exterior. Yamato reached out and drew him closer with both trembling hands.

"Make love to me?" he asked, finding confidence after saying the words aloud. It made sense to give in to his desire. They could both have exactly what they wanted.

Whatever the future might bring, he wanted this moment with Taichi. Part of him wanted the gentleness Taichi would give, and a significant part of him felt genuine attraction, but mostly, he wanted a memory to absorb whatever pain or misery would come when Taichi was forced to turn him over, _trained_, to Yagami.

Yagami wanted to torture him as a bed-toy. He hadn't seen the bastard since that first day, but undoubtedly some day soon, he would remember his new acquisition and surely, he wouldn't let Yamato be on top.

Yamato wasn't a virgin, or even a stranger to having male bed-partners, but he'd always been the one in control. Yagami wouldn't give him that, but Taichi... Someday soon Yagami would take away his choice, but he could _choose_ Taichi.

Taichi was looking beyond startled and his breathing had turned heavier, as if he were losing control of his temper. Yamato released him and turned away before he could get himself into even more trouble. Taichi caught his wrist, expression serious.

"Sorry," Yamato offered. "I'm not sure where that came from." Even so, the request was true enough. The idea of having sex with Taichi wasn't so horrible. There'd been an attraction between them ever since Yamato had mistaken the taller man for a medic. And now...

Taichi pulled him closer, forcing their hips dangerously close together. "Did you mean that?" he demanded softly.

Acute desire, not anger, showed in brown eyes as intoxicating as aged brandy.

Losing himself in that liquid gaze was his first mistake.

His second mistake was parting his lips yet saying nothing.

The third mistake was letting himself melt into Taichi's arms, relishing the sensations from their brushing groins.

And by the time Taichi's lips pressed against his, Yamato wasn't thinking clearly enough to care whether any of it was a mistake or not.

The world around him was a blur as Taichi eased him down to the mattress.


	5. Revealing

Taichi had known his mind was entering a losing battle with his heart the moment he'd stepped into the room. The kiss they were currently sharing was yet another surrender to instinct. The earlier anger, frustration, and disappointment over the guards' deaths had receded at the sight of a panicked Yamato -- something that four solid hours of exercise hadn't been able to work out of his system. Most of all, he had been disappointed with himself for misjudging Yamato's character so badly... but seeing that despondent blue gaze and hearing the fear in the man's voice had bolstered his confidence in his belief of Yamato's innocence.

Then Yamato had turned cold again, showing little remorse over Taran and Chutsu's deaths and all Taichi's frustration came rushing back. Why did Yamato have to act like a jerk? He knew the blond wasn't that way all the time -- in most cases, he'd lash out when he was scared or angry -- but the seeming lack of empathy had made Taichi pause and wonder if he'd made a serious mistake of judgement. If it was too late, if Yamato had become more like his father without Taichi realizing it, even if Yamato wasn't involved in a plot against him... he couldn't stay with a person who didn't value human life.

To his immense relief, Yamato eventually had apologized, giving Taichi the excuse to believe his earlier unfeeling statements had been born of stress and fear.

Yet, that was a problem of its own.

Yamato's fear bothered him. He could tell that Yamato desired him, but he hated that it was so intertwined with a fear of Yagami. Yamato was supposed to desire Taichi for the person he was... not for the sole fact that he wasn't a cruel bastard like everyone believed Yagami to be. But with so many lies obscuring the air, there wasn't any way to glimpse Yamato's true feelings.

Then there was the very real possibility that if Yamato was told the truth, he'd want nothing to do with Taichi anyway. And Taichi needed Yamato -- he'd learned that much during his self-punishing work-out. The thought of having to give Yamato up had put a mindless desperation into his movements.

Wearing the mask forced him to tell lies. He'd accepted this long ago and he'd been able to do great things because of the lies. Yet he'd given up so many things to keep the falsehoods believable. Hikari and Koushiro helped him stay sane and relatively happy, but there were certain things he could never ask of them...

Four prime years of his life had been spent locked within the shaped metal and wires and at no point had he enjoyed the touch of another. He hadn't dared get intimate with the mask off, for fear of being recognized. But even with the mask on, if the awkwardness of the contraption wasn't enough, then the fact that his body in no way resembled that of a forty-year old's sealed the matter. All things considered, Taichi was rather glad that his physique couldn't be mistaken for an old man's... but that satisfaction did little to fill his carnal needs.

Now with Yamato willingly beneath him -- a fantasy born over the years as he watched from behind the mask -- he was finding it impossible to stick to his predetermined priorities.

As much as he knew Yamato's situation looked bad, he couldn't shake the feeling of Yamato's innocence in the men's deaths. He could tell the blond wasn't being entirely truthful, but then again, neither was he. True, he had the responsibility of safekeeping the fortress and its occupants to uphold, but Yamato, in a slightly embarrassing display of emotion, had promised that Taichi wouldn't get hurt. And, while he had been momentarily angered by Yamato's callous lack of proper regret for the guards' deaths, if their situations had been reversed, Taichi didn't know for certain that he'd be acting any differently.

Rather than this being an espionage attempt, he got the impression that Yamato just wanted to escape his 'enemy' and didn't care who helped him leave. In the back of his mind, Taichi knew that Yamato could still be an unwitting pawn in a larger scheme to infiltrate the fortress... but for the moment, it was enough that Yamato didn't wish him harm.

Still...

Yamato's fear was an issue he shouldn't completely ignore.

Taichi knew he shouldn't, but Yamato was lying hot and needy beneath him, encouraging Taichi's touches with pants and soft moans. Taichi pressed closer, enjoying the delicious grind of their hips. The voice of reason in his mind dropped to a whisper.

He's afraid.

He doesn't really want you.

This isn't right...

He shifted, starting to rise, but Yamato's arms pulled him close, refusing to let go.

"Taichi." Blue eyes glazed with lust looked up at him. "Don't go." Yamato pressed upwards, forcing them together again.

More...

Reason faded away completely...

* * *

Only dimly was Taichi aware of Yamato tilting his head to the side and breaking their current kiss, his blue eyes opening and the haze in them clearing a bit. For Taichi, the distance apart only served as a necessary opportunity to catch his breath. Once remotely under control, he reached to move Yamato's head back into position, but the blond ducked away from his hand.

"Taichi? What comes next?"

Taichi stroked his cheek. "Whatever you want. We can just kiss if --" Yamato bucked up into him.

"I want more."

Taichi brought their mouths together. His body rested perfectly in the spread hollow Yamato opened around him. The kiss continued furiously, Taichi's attention was consumed by it until Yamato began making small, grinding circles against him. Then, the only thought filling his mind was that they both were seriously overdressed.

His hands moved over the material of Yamato's shirt, stopping only when he found a gap between two buttons. The feel of warm flesh at his fingertips left him aching to touch more and he deftly popped the button. Somehow, Yamato heard the _plink_ of it hitting the wall and correctly guessed the source of the noise.

The blond broke the kiss with a low bedroom laugh.

"Taichi, I'm not exactly partial to this shirt, but it's the only one I have. Be nice to it."

"Hmmm... Wouldn't you rather I be very, very nice to you, instead?"

"Mmm. The shirt might get jealous. You'll just have to be nice to the both of us."

Taichi smiled in answer and dipped his head to run nimble lips along Yamato's jaw. He worked at the sensitive spot behind his earlobe until he managed to coax out a moan, then he pulled away and smirked as Yamato tried to follow him upright.

With Yamato's full attention upon him, Taichi slipped the next button through its hole carefully, slowly, teasingly, and he pressed his palm flat against the stomach he'd uncovered. At his caress, fine muscles contracted and Yamato's legs pulled tighter around him, creating a trap Taichi had no desire to escape.

While his mouth feasted on the exposed skin, Taichi's hand darted under the shirt, tickled along Yamato's side, and ran across his chest in meandering circles, until it finally homed in on a nipple.

With Yamato's pleasured approval murmuring in his ear, Taichi toyed with the nub and resumed careful work on the buttons with his other hand. The shirt needed to come off -- he wanted unobstructed access to Yamato's skin.

Not one to be accused of passive participation, Yamato was currently working on extracting Taichi from his jumpsuit. He had managed to get the fastening down as far as his arm would reach, but that only brought the uniform open to Taichi's waist. Yamato pushed the fabric apart, then trailed a slender finger down Taichi's abdomen. The light tickle stopped only a handspan above his center before continuing playfully downward and over hot flesh.

Clothes off. Now.

Taichi finished with the last of the buttons and used his grip on the shirt to bring them both to a sitting position. He placed a kiss on Yamato's mouth, then stood up to shimmy out of the constricting uniform, intentionally dropping the rest of his covering in the process.

He paused, savoring Yamato's gaze upon his bare skin. He knew his muscles were sleek from years of training. Many Lords let their bodies weaken because of the comforts of technology, but Taichi pushed himself, demanding perfection in all aspects of his life. Now, he was reaping the rewards of his dedication. For the first time in years, he was standing bare in front of another man, as an equal, as a lover, as someone desired.

Yamato licked his lips and Taichi felt a matching internal hunger howl to be let out. He wanted to see the blond man stripped. Yamato's pants and open shirt served as a barrier between them. He needed to see Yamato fully, unhidden. Taichi needed the layer gone.

"Now you," he whispered roughly, pulling the shirt off and tossing it away. He'd moved so suddenly that Yamato's eyes were only just now finishing their track up from lower extremities to his face. A light tug brought Yamato to his feet.

Stepping closer together, their heads tilted for a kiss and Taichi found his hands groping blindly at Yamato's waist for the fastening. Yamato broke away, twisting in the embrace.

"No, not like that," the blond said. Yamato stepped backwards, moving closer, rubbing his ass in teasing circles against Taichi's hard arousal. Back-to-front, he drew Taichi's arms around himself and replaced the hands on the waistband of the pants. He turned his head back for a kiss. "I want it like this," he breathed out moments before their lips collided.

Taichi's hips jerked with lessening control against Yamato's softness, seeking more of the maddening friction being offered to him.

...so long...

He almost drowned in Yamato, but the blond moaned his name in a musical prayer, calling him back to their moment. Theirs -- not just Taichi's. Easy enough to satisfy, though, their passions were hardly unmatched. Taking pleasure, giving pleasure, sharing pleasure; he wanted it all.

He held himself in check long enough to guide loosened pants down over narrow hips. Yamato leaned back against him and toed the garment aside when it hit the floor.

Taichi took a half-step back, intending to turn Yamato around. He wanted to see. "Should I..." he began, wanting for the other's comfort.

Yamato clung to his arms at the movement to bring them face to face. "Hold me," he said, dropping his hands only when the threat of turning had passed. "Just like this..." He guided Taichi's hands lower, helping him rub, helping him stroke, helping him learn this new feeling. "Touch me. Make me know that it's you."

Taichi complied, keeping the rhythm Yamato had set. To further occupy himself, he bent his neck to taste the bare skin of Yamato's shoulder. His mind wandered, imagining the pleasures they would share later on, and he stopped sucking only after seeing a vivid red mark sprawled against the white cream of Yamato's shoulder. He moved his lips onward, traveling across unexplored territory, teasing the salty flesh spiced with musk.

His hands never faltered in their dance over Yamato's hot length, but now his own desire was harder to set aside. He let his weight rest heavily on the man in front of him, and the action brought them both to their knees. As distracted as Yamato was, it was a simple matter to flip the blond's back to the mattress without even breaking contact.

Yamato was too far gone to protest the change and Taichi much preferred this view. He liked that he could see Yamato's eyes as Taichi touched him. He liked observing Yamato's helpless struggle to contain the small sounds of bliss that leaked out at every stroke. Taichi spread his knees to either side of Yamato's thighs and shifted his grip so that they both would be receiving pleasure from his efforts.

It won't be long now.

He stretched forward, bracing his weight on one hand placed next to Yamato's ear. Their mouths met again and his tongue darted in for a taste.

Unsteady hands ran through Taichi's hair, pulling, tangling, caressing. More than just his hands, Yamato's entire body was lightly trembling. "Taichi," that sweet voice gasped.

Only a moment longer.

With a cry, Yamato spilled his seed, splattering their chests with the evidence of his pleasure. Taichi was close, but he hung on, waiting for Yamato's heaving breaths to slow. He needed to take this further.

"Ya-Yamato," he began, his control more frayed than he would've liked.

Wobbly blue eyes came to focus on Taichi's face.

"Thank you for that." A faint smile graced bliss-slackened lips. Yamato curled upwards for an embrace, then lay back. "So on to the main lesson now? Go ahead. Do it. I'll be all right."

"Huh?" was the most intelligent reply Taichi could manage. His mind registered the gift of permission, but it stalled at the word 'lesson.'

Yamato's hand grasped his cock, urging it downward as pale thighs spread further. "It's okay, Taichi. I'm ready, and I know you'll be gentle."

"Yamato." A single word, a question, a promise, a name, a need.

The concentration required to keep from ravishing the man left little for anything else, but Taichi managed to hold himself steady. He had to do this the right way. He had to make sure... _'Lesson,' I think he said... It can't be like that._ Taichi closed his eyes, trying to focus.

Dammit, I know I shouldn't -- it's not fair to either of us. Yet how do I deny him when he's looking at me like that? Those eyes. He wants me. And I want him. So it's okay to do this if he wants me, isn't it?

Too much. Too close. Too recklessly consumed by desire. He needed to distance himself, for both their sakes, but Yamato's grip held firm.

Taichi brushed against the length of the pale arm. "Let go of me, please." Slowly, though visibly hurt and worried by the soft request, Yamato did. Taichi silently cursed. He should have been able to express himself better, in a way that didn't make Yamato feel horrible.

He pressed a kiss to Yamato's forehead and tried again. "It's all right. I just need to know... Do you really want this?"

Blue eyes flashed, but before Yamato could answer with something scathing, Taichi held a finger against the blond's lips. "Really think about it. I've got to go get some lube." Yamato still looked upset, but he remained quiet, probably content that Taichi hadn't refused outright. Taichi stood and, not wanting to bother with his jumpsuit, pulled on Yamato's pants to cover himself in the halls, his fingers managing the fastening as fast as safely possible. There was no one to see him, Taichi knew, but Yamato didn't know that and would wonder where the lube was kept if Taichi walked out without any clothes on.

Once he was relatively dressed, he leaned over for a parting kiss. "Just remember... if you change your mind and say no, I'll still do all I can to help you."

Yamato made as if to speak again and Taichi shook his head. "Save it for when I get back." He had to give Yamato space, the chance to say no.

The trip to his chambers was swift, but his return was more delayed that he'd intended. Taichi had originally planned to grab the lube, then give Yamato a few minutes alone to think about it. Instead, it took nearly five minutes to find the tube. It wasn't something he had a frequent use for, so of course, he found it three drawers away from where he thought he'd kept it.

At least he had the forethought to double-check that it was still fresh. The consistency was thicker than he remembered, but he decided it would still do the job... if Yamato was still interested.

He gulped down a burst of senseless nervousness in front of Yamato's door. Maybe he shouldn't have left Yamato alone this long. Now it was awkward coming back in... But the clothes... if Yamato was still undressed, that meant he was still willing, right?

Taichi opened the door, then bit down on his cheek to keep himself from saying something foolish or grinning like the idiot he knew himself to be. Not only was Yamato still undressed, he had arranged himself on the mattress so that he was displayed to the best advantage -- slightly curled to the side, legs parted wide and lightly bent at the knee. If that wasn't answer enough, the arousal jutting up from golden curls reinforced the message.

Taichi didn't waste time in losing the pants and joining him.

Yamato pulled him down for a kiss while Taichi fumbled the cap on the lube. "You sure this is what you want?" Taichi asked, pulling away, making space.

Yamato smiled, as if discovering a secret. "You need to hear it, don't you? Very well." He took Taichi's hand and moved it to his side, guiding it in long strokes over his bare chest. He ran it down lower. "I want my first time like this to be with someone who's both strong and gentle. You're strong..." Yamato massaged along the muscles of Taichi's forearm. He pulled the arm closer to his face and licked at the brunet's fingertips. "And yet you'll be gentle with me, won't you, Taichi? When you're moving inside of me, you'll treat me well?"

Yamato had to know what he was doing. He had to be driving Taichi crazy deliberately.

"Always," he murmured, his senses narrowing to the warm flesh below him. Taichi stopped resisting Yamato's tugging and let himself crash next to Yamato's waiting body, one arm going to support his own weight. The other hand, with its slickened fingers, began a stretching dance between Yamato's legs.

On the initial insertion, Yamato gasped, clenching his nails into Taichi's skin. Taichi kept himself calm despite the minor pain and eased Yamato through the unusual feeling, murmuring soothing things made more of sounds and tones than actual words. He'd been seventeen when this had been done to him, and he could remember how he had felt. Mostly it was nerves making Yamato's body tense. The sooner he relaxed...

Taichi bent closer, brushing his lips along Yamato's ribs, spacing his kisses out with whispered words of encouragement. He found a sensitive point off to one side and while he focused on the spot, he changed the angle of his finger.

Taichi winced as nails dug deeper into his shoulder. "Breathe, Yamato. It helps."

Blue eyes cracked open. "What, you've done this before?"

Taichi didn't really want to talk about it. It had been a discreet liaison with a young guard purposefully chosen for his blond hair and blue eyes, and although it had been pleasant enough, it didn't mean anything then and it certainly didn't have any bearing on what was happening now.

"Enough to know that relaxing and keeping the oxygen flowing is a good thing." He nibbled on the nearest piece of flesh. "Of course, that's good advice in general, ne?"

Yamato's belly pulsed in time with his laughter and he smacked Taichi on the shoulder he had just been painfully gripping. Taichi grimaced against the further abuse, but Yamato was already relaxing and he didn't want to call his mind to something so trivial. He swore to himself, though, that he'd get Yamato's nails trimmed first thing in the morning.

The pitch of Yamato's moans changed into something more needy. Taichi broke off his ministrations to apply more lube, then eased in a second finger, varying the angle and separation with each thrust. His hand seemed to move on its own while the rest of his attention was drawn to the emotions playing across Yamato's face.

Yamato's eyes were closed to slits, lashes casting shadows on rose-kissed cheeks. Peace, divine torment, pleasure, and most of all... need.

As he watched his lover, the desire in him changed to a low burn that fed on Yamato's pleasure and it flared up to fill a place in him that had been empty since their first meeting. Each gasp, each moment of lost control, felt right. After so many years, it finally felt right.

"What are you looking at?"

Taichi's head jerked up as he blinked. "You," he said, giving Yamato a guilty smile.

"Hmmm... so what are you waiting for?" Taichi could tell Yamato was aiming for something seductively casual, but he heard the raw desire beneath the words.

He removed his fingers and crawled on top of the lighter-skinned man. "I've been waiting for you," he murmured into their kiss, eyes crinkled in mirth.

Yamato joined him in the laugh, his hand moving up to stroke through Taichi's hair. "It'll be okay, won't it?"

Something told Taichi that they weren't just talking about the sex. "Things will work out just as they should," he promised, his hand working blindly to distribute more lubricant to the necessary areas. Strong arms pulled him closer and he held himself in place, tip resting just outside Yamato's entrance. Beneath him, he could feel the pulse of Yamato's blood, beating in time with his own.

"Taichi..."

Yamato drew his head down, letting his heated breath blow across Taichi's ear. Taichi nestled closer. This was where he wanted to be. His one perfect moment. Everything he had ever wanted lay within his arms. Yamato would understand tomorrow, when he explained the truth and the reason for his deception. Everything would work out, just as he'd promised. It was so perfect.

"I want you," Yamato husked, staring up at Taichi.

Absolutely perfect.

Yamato held him close. "Want only you," he murmured. "Make me know it's you. When Yagami touches me, I'll feel only you."

Taichi's breath left him and he stared down at Yamato's body wanting to speak but unable to do more than give a half-sob. He shook his brown head, hanging it low. His fists clenched at his sides.

Yagami...

Taichi's throat filled with bile.

Kami-sama, no. This is all still about Yagami.

He wanted to cry, to scream, to find a way to make Yamato take the careless, passion-born words back.

"Taichi? ... Please... Need you..."

"No," he said, his voice breaking. "I can't do this. Yagami... I... Yagami..."

"Will never have to know," Yamato finished for him, trying to fight through the haze of the moment in an attempt to placate Taichi and tragically making the wrong assumption. "I need this, Taichi. I need the memory of you."

He'll never understand, will he?

But how could he? From the very first moment, Taichi had lied to him. And all for what? So that he could be 'certain' that he, that his people weren't in danger? Was it worth this?

He closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to fall. He was an idiot. A really, really big idiot.

"Please. It's all right," Yamato hushed gently, his hand reaching up to brush a drop of moisture from Taichi's cheek. "I want this... I want someone that I --" His voice dropped as he searched within himself. "Love? Care for? Lust for?" Taichi felt him shake his head. "I don't know. I don't have words for it. But do I need them?" Yamato's hand found the back of Taichi's neck and tugged him closer, forcing his eyes open. The blond's face was open, earnest, certain. "All I know is that I want you to be the one to have me like this first. Please, do this for me. I want to have a memory of you to retreat into when he takes me."

He... It's all about Yagami.

Taichi felt his heart tear. It was all wrong. The realization cooled his lust better than a dozen cold showers. He didn't want to be just the 'pleasant alternative' to the sick, perverted bastard Yamato thought Yagami to be.

"I can't do this, Yamato. I want you, but I need you to want me too."

Yamato looked up at him with guileless eyes. "I do."

No, you don't. I almost let myself...

How could Yamato want him, the real Taichi, if the truth was unsaid? And once the truth was spoken, would he want him still? Taichi had to resist the blue eyes. "It's not just that. Yamato..." His mind flickered an apology to Koushiro and he braced himself for Yamato's reaction. "Yagami doesn't exist."

Yamato's eyes widened, but then after a moment, his smile turned slow and seductive. "Okay," he agreed lightly. He was taking it better than Taichi had even dreamed. "Yagami doesn't exist," the blond repeated, still calm. Though his mind screamed against it, Taichi let himself be tugged back down. Yamato's fingers brushed through his hair while teeth delicately nibbled at the juncture of neck and shoulder. "If that's what you need... The only people in this room are you and me. No one else exists."

Taichi froze braced over Yamato's warm body, wishing he could cry. Yamato was missing the point and Taichi despaired that he would ever understand. Words were failing him and right now he couldn't muster the energy to walk away again. "Yamato..." A finger on his lips silenced him. With a motion that was surprisingly gentle, Yamato pushed him to the side, then straddled him.

Their faces were a bare inch apart. Yamato's breath washed over him, warm and sweet.

"This has been hard for you, hasn't it?" Yamato asked, stroking along Taichi's jaw.

"Shouldn't I be the one saying that, Yamato?" he said, trying to sit up.

Yamato shifted his weight and held him in place. "But you've been trying to make it better for me. I can tell. And you've gotten hurt in the process."

Taichi could tell that Yamato was half-guessing, but he was close enough to the mark for the words to hold him in place. He had to try...

"Yamato, there are things you don't know. It isn't right for --"

A kiss consumed whatever Taichi had been going to say next. He couldn't remember what it was.

"There are things you don't know about me, Taichi," Yamato said when they finally broke for air. "We're even, wouldn't you say?"

Yamato rocked forward and Taichi closed his eyes against the rush of pleasure.

"I --"

He needed to touch, to be touched, so badly.

"Isn't it enough that we want each other? Let yourself go. Lay down your responsibilities." Yamato whispered the perfect words with all of Taichi's departed skill. "Be with me tonight... Be in me... Give me a beautiful memory... I want you."

Taichi clutched Yamato to him, reveling in the contact, and rolled them over. They kissed then, for Taichi couldn't find the strength not to claim Yamato's willing mouth. But the momentary lack of control only made it more painful when he finally tore himself away.

Taichi retreated to the foot of the mattress. Being near Yamato was too tempting, hurt too much. The blond moved closer, following. In one horrible moment, Taichi lashed out, knocking the confused man back roughly.

"Taichi...?"

"It's not right," he cried, pounding his fist into the carpet.

"Taichi..." Yamato tried again, reaching out.

Taichi slapped the hand away. "You don't understand. You can't separate us! Yagami. Taichi. We're the same."

Yamato's eyes flashed in annoyance and hurt. "If you hit me a third time, I swear you'll live only long enough to regret it," he announced in a steely tone. "And you are the same. Right, because in the end, abusive masters and horny protégés are all the same? I still end up fucked!?"

Dammit! When did I...

His hand was throbbing and red. Taichi set aside his own guilt and the bitterness in Yamato's voice and focused on telling the simple truth, that now appeared to be none too simple.

"No! That's not... It's all just pretend. We're the same person, don't you see?!"

Taichi kept up a mental string of curses as Yamato's eyes widened. There. He'd said it. Now Yamato would hate him.

Yamato scrambled toward him.

This was it. Taichi let the blow come. He knew he deserved it.

* * *

Yamato reached out to brush soft fingertips across the brunet's cheek. His flash of anger had evaporated at hearing the pain and desperation in Taichi's voice. It was strange. Somehow, although Yamato had been ready for sex, Taichi wasn't. Yamato didn't fully understand, given all the subtle and not-so-subtle hints he'd been getting during their time together, but it was sweet that Taichi was concerned about becoming like his master. It gave Yamato hope that the goodness in Taichi's heart was strong enough to counteract his master's poisoned teachings.

"Shhhh..." he whispered, enfolding Taichi in his arms. The Lord had stiffened at his touch and Yamato fit his chin in the crook of Taichi's neck and shoulder, concentrating on making soothing circles on the bare skin of the other's back. "You could hardly pretend being so gentle-hearted. It's all right. You're nothing like him."

Taichi said nothing but he made a small laughing sound... at least, that was what Yamato hoped it was. As emotional as Taichi currently was, it could have been an unsteady sob. He kissed along the side of Taichi's neck. "Last time I checked, you don't derive pleasure from purchasing people and watching them squirm as you torture them... Although I have to admit... I'd be disappointed if you didn't enjoy it when I squirm against you like this," he teased, putting words into action.

"You don't understand. This isn't a joke!" Taichi cried, struggling to get away.

Having been pinned by Taichi before, Yamato knew the other man wasn't using his full strength. He let go, touched, curious what Taichi would do.

Taichi's pulling velocity carried him back a few inches before he could check himself against the sudden freedom. Drawing up on his knees, he gripped Yamato's shoulders and stared down at him intently.

"Just answer me this: Could you love the man who made you a slave?"

Yamato flinched at Taichi's use of the word 'slave'. It was an odd question too, but if it helped Taichi feel better he would consider it. Yamato thought of Yagami more as a dangerous adversary and Taichi had never truly treated him as a slave... more as a prisoner of war. It sounded as if Taichi were trying to claim that he was responsible for the current situation, yet that was Yagami's fault, wasn't it? Or even more correctly, Yamato's father's? Taichi was still waiting, oddly silent, for his answer. Could he love the man who had enslaved him? It didn't take long to figure out what his response would be.

"No," he said dryly. "I try not to share my emotions with psychotic murderers. Besides," he added, trying to lighten the moment, "My father and I haven't been in close confidences for several years now." The clarification of blame was unable to lift Taichi's suddenly pained expression.

Despite the strange interruption, he still burned for Taichi's touch and he could not put the memory of the man's fingers inside him from his mind.

I'll find out what's troubling him, then we can resume where we left off.

Or maybe not...

Having looked down, Yamato finally noticed Taichi had withered under the stress.

Taichi hung his head, brown locks matted with sweat flopping into his eyes. It wasn't the most flattering image. Yamato went over and tilted Taichi's face between his palms so that he could look into eyes that were dull and tired.

"What's wrong, Taichi?"

Taichi brushed out of the touch, holding none of his strength back now. "I have to go," he uttered. "I can't. Yagami and I..." He fell silent.

Yamato bit back his temper. He was trying to be understanding, but the normally glib man couldn't even string an entire sentence together and Yamato was left to guess at the problem. "Just tell me what's wrong."

Taichi looked torn. "I can't. Not yet. I promised I wouldn't. I've already said too much. Forgive me," he said, looking away.

Yamato sighed. "Yagami never has to know about us," he offered. He didn't want to let Taichi leave angry. He was the closest thing to a sure ally that Yamato had and he couldn't lose that security, no matter how small it might be.

Taichi shook his head. "Anything I know, he'll end up knowing." His eyes were staring at Yamato intensely, begging him to understand. It was impossible without the words.

"Taichi, does it really matter so much?" He reached for him again. "Please, be with me."

The Lord scooted out of his reach. "It matters to me. I can't betray the trust of one I love any more than I already have."

Is that supposed to be me? Or someone else? Yagami?

A shudder of revulsion swept through him. Afterward, he sucked in a breath and fought off the swirl of anger and betrayal blending within him. He spent a long moment watching Taichi's eyes, but the brown visage was too shadowed with misery to display an answer to Yamato's unasked question.

He shook his head. If Taichi somehow loved him... he shouldn't be hiding the truth from him. And if Taichi had meant Yagami, or someone else... Yamato had no desire to mix himself up in whatever fucked up relationship existed between master and protégé.

It still hurt, though. Enough to make him want to make sure Taichi felt his mistake.

Yamato turned from him. "Fine. Go ahead and leave. You're not the slave who's locked up." He tossed the words back and felt satisfaction as Taichi flinched again. "You don't have to sully yourself doing anything for me, your Lordship. I'll take care of this myself."

He heard Taichi turn but Yamato continued as if unaware in order to prove a point and he let his head fall back on the mattress, eyes closed. Part of him had hoped Taichi would change his mind. Maybe that just meant he was the bigger idiot.

Frustrated as all hell, Yamato reached down and grasped himself, though he soon found that his own strokes did nothing to soothe nor quicken the fire Taichi's hands had kindled.

It didn't matter to Yamato that Taichi was still in the room. He had begged his captor for sex and any dignity he might have retained after days of enforced nudity had been lost in the act. To make matters worse, nothing he tried gave him release. His cheeks burned in needy shame and he hated the despairing mewl that escaped his lips.

Yamato's hand was halted seconds before something hot and wet closed around his length. He arched up into the touch and his fingers instinctively tangled themselves in long brown strands.

Taichi... Ahh... Ohhh... Why?

He wanted to protest, but he couldn't change the sounds he was making into coherent words, his thoughts not all that intelligible either.

A few moments more and it didn't matter anyway.

Taichi held him, chest and arms encircling Yamato's still-trembling body. But rather than spooning, the man held his hips away, putting a distance between them. Yamato didn't want to think on what that suggested about Taichi's feelings. For the moment, all he could manage was getting his breathing back under control.

It wasn't that he was taking a long time to recover -- the lower half of him was already getting ready to reciprocate... with a vigor he'd thought lost to his younger years. No, it was his emotions that were causing him trouble now and stealing his breath away. Despite the memory of his earlier anger, he knew Taichi wanted him... wanted to help him. It would just take time. The confusion he felt about what had just happened made him savor the reassurance provided by Taichi's continued embrace. He was loath to pull away too soon, wanting instead to stay there and forget the rest of the world.

Later, the breaths warming Yamato's neck had become so even and steady that he wondered if Taichi had fallen asleep. But when he turned, he saw Taichi had his eyes open and his parted lips were curved in a gentle smile. Shadows still lurked in his eyes, though, so their confrontation was far from over.

Yamato didn't know what to say. Taichi couldn't be too upset with him, but still, Yamato wasn't sure where he stood. _Why did Taichi...?_ He was spared from having to formulate a question by Taichi's soft words.

"You'll have to trust me when I say it's not right for us to be closer, to go any further than what we just did. It's not that I don't want to." He attempted a lecherous wink, but it was half-hearted at best and felt awkwardly timed. Taichi sobered once more, worry creasing his brows, and a note of sadness entered his voice. "It's that it's just... not right. I'm sorry I can't explain it better."

Yamato was quiet for a moment. Taichi's regret seemed genuine and cooled his anger. Still, the worry crossed his mind that this all was a trap to win his trust.. and that was harder to set aside. He ran his hand back, over Taichi's arm and shoulder. His fingertips found rough patches and he turned his head to look at them. Nail marks -- spaced equally to his own grip. He brushed his fingers over them once more. If he'd been clawed like this by one of his lovers, he wouldn't have stayed quiet.

"Sorry," he murmured.

Taichi kissed the nape of his neck and directed his head to its original resting place against his other arm. "You got me here, too," Taichi said, turning the arm over so that Yamato could see angry scratches along Taichi's inner wrist.

Two of the marks were crossed in close approximation to a katakana '_ya_'. Yamato raised his hand to touch the red, mouth-shaped spot on his shoulder. They'd marked each other.

"It's all right," Taichi said. "You couldn't have helped it."

Yamato resented that comment, he wasn't out of control... yet, as he couldn't remember making the marks, he had to trust that it was true. Besides, Taichi was doing a wonderful job distracting him from the matter by making lazy swirling patterns along his skin. It caused his mind, however, to turn to other issues.

"Do you love Yagami?" Yamato asked softly, fearing the answer but needing to know.

Taichi's eyes became distant. "I used to," he said, "When he was a different man."

Yamato accepted this silently. He could understand, almost. He and his father had shared a few gentle, loving moments. Just a few, of course, and Yamato still hated the man, but he could see how a tender-hearted soul like Taichi would latch onto the smallest scrap of good in a person. He'd probably felt sorry for the man when he lost his son.

Taichi had said he loved someone. Yamato wasn't letting himself forget that. If it wasn't Yagami...

"You said before you didn't want to betray someone's trust, the one you..." _... love._

"You," Taichi answered, as if their minds were linked. Yamato's heart stirred. "But there are things you don't know. Things I can't tell you yet. Soon, though. It'll make sense. I promise. Until then..." He caressed Yamato's body. "I want us to wait to be together like that."

"What about Yagami? Aren't you supposed to be training me?"

Taichi winced. "Let me worry about that. You're safe here. I promise." The brunet's hands were moving again, with a healer's delicate touch.

The momentary bliss and comfort Taichi was offering were further distractions to cover the secret the Lord was hiding, Yamato knew. Still, in this moment, whatever the secret was didn't seep into the contact between them. The relationship between Yagami and Taichi -- for the Lord had never said that they _weren't_ involved, merely that he did not love him -- could remain unspoken. There was nothing malevolent or manipulative about Taichi's behavior. The protégé had not yet become the master, so there was still hope.

There was the potential for Yamato's buried doubts to fester and turn ugly, but he let the matter sleep. Taichi's touches were soothing, relaxing, hypnotic, and Yamato never realized when the world fell completely away.

* * *

Taichi held Yamato as he slept, relishing the comfort of a warm body next to his. Unfortunately, the happiness he experienced from holding Yamato wrapped in his arms was of the quality that could only be felt by the utterly foolish... and his actions could be called nothing less.

Once the truth had been told, and Yamato had misunderstood _three_ times, Taichi's sense had returned. Yamato had escaped. Two of his men had been killed. That was what had started this evening's fiasco. Koushiro would never understand the impulsive honesty of a romantic moment. It was too soon for the truth. So when he'd had the chance to clarify, to explain... he remained quiet, trying to distance himself. Seeing Yamato sprawled there, trying in vain to bring himself to completion... he'd been unable to stand the suffering etched in Yamato's face, knowing that he'd been the one to cause it.

The blond was dozing now, no doubt a combination of relief, release, and mental exhaustion. He hoped that there was also a part of Yamato aware of who was holding him... that the knowledge allowed the blond to relax and sleep securely.

This present experience, his new ability to savor another's intimate trust, was precious to Taichi. It would all change, of course, when Yamato woke, so he did nothing to disturb the other's sleep. Reality would break into their little world soon enough. No need to rush it.

For that reason, he remained awake, not wanting to waste the brief serene moment. And, eventually, as all things did in his life, it came to an end.

Lashes fluttered open and Yamato's hands sought his, lacing and unlacing rhythmically a few times before wandering to give attention to other parts of Taichi's body. Taichi closed his eyes and tried to focus on anything besides how insanely good Yamato's caresses felt.

Yamato shifted out of his arms into a position giving him better access to Taichi's entire body. He began kissing his way down Taichi's torso, his target unmistakable. Taichi caught his shoulders and opened his eyes, straining to concentrate. He could have sworn that he was seeing Yamato smirking slightly, as if he knew and enjoyed how much he was making Taichi squirm.

"I should be going," he said, not even twitching a muscle.

Yamato's lips quirked. "You still didn't get to play, lover."

He straddled Taichi, rocking enticingly and positioning himself so that Taichi, now teased back to attention, was once again at his entrance. Everything in Taichi was screaming to let the blond continue, but Yamato shivered. It might have been a sudden chill, uncertain nerves, or even a quiver of anticipation -- but the reason didn't change the most important thing: what Taichi desperately wanted to do was wrong.

Maybe afterwards some other man could brush the lies aside and look past the utter falseness of their first union, but Taichi couldn't and he doubted Yamato would be able to either. Taichi had waited too long for this. Loving Yamato wasn't wrong, but doing it like this would be. If he went ahead and found his pleasure in Yamato, he would be no better than the monster Yamato believed Yagami.

Reluctantly, Taichi rolled aside. "And I'm not going to," he said firmly, speaking to the earlier tease. "Feel however you like about it, but I have no right to claim you like that."

The slim body tensed. "Even if you want to? Even if _I_ want you to?"

Something dark flickered in Yamato's eyes, but Taichi missed it, seeing them only as wide and innocent. Yamato looked much younger than Taichi knew him to be and it made it easier to calm his libido. He couldn't... Yamato deserved the truth, needed to know the person loving him.

Despite the wrongness of it, he was unable to stop himself from engaging Yamato in another long kiss. He drew away unwillingly, but forced himself to focus. "Even then," he said, smoothing down tousled gold locks. "It doesn't mean that I don't care about you, though."

It had been the wrong thing to say. "So," Yamato bristled. "Is this where you say you want us to be friends now?"

The remark cut. "I thought we already were," he said quietly.

Yamato's lips thinned in anger and he refused to acknowledge the statement. "This is about Yagami, isn't it?" he demanded finally. "Did he tell you to warm me up, but to let him be the one to split me open? Was that it? Nibble all you want, but don't take the full meal? If you're just going to turn me over to him, why bother being kind? You know he'll destroy me. Or maybe it's that you get off on watching me break," he said, bitterness lacing his voice heavily.

Heart-weary, Taichi looked up and shook his head sadly. "I want to see you happy. You deserve kindness, Yamato, with no strings attached. I know it's hard to believe, but you won't be harmed, I swear it."

Before it had even begun, their relationship was being destroyed. With the threat of Yagami's torture hanging over him, none of Yamato's feelings could be considered genuine. He'd reveal the truth to Yamato tomorrow as Yagami. Yamato would understand then. He'd hate Taichi, but at least he'd finally understand.

"Things will make more sense in the morning. Please, just let it go." To his intense surprise, he was embraced. "Yamato?" he questioned, voice trembling with hope.

Yamato snuggled closer. "I'm tired. I don't want to fight about that sadistic bastard right now." Taichi winced at his explanation, but couldn't say anything productive. Maybe it would be enough just to hold Yamato. The blond rested quietly against him for a while before saying, "Can I ask you something, Taichi?"

"Yes." He stroked soothingly along Yamato's spine. "And I'll let you ask something else as a freebie and as further proof of my magnanimous greatness." His delivery was a bit off, but a little humor was what they both needed with the uncertainty of tomorrow looming overhead.

Yamato snorted, but sounded amused. His hand reached up to cradle Taichi's cheek. "The door to my room was left open. Did you mean for me to escape? If you did... would you do it again? For real, this time, with some sort of clue for which way I should go?"

Oh, gods...

"Of all the things you could have asked me right now, Yamato, why did you have to ask that?"

Yamato looked at him levelly. "Because you're my only hope of getting out of here."

I'm such a fool. He was... he offered himself just to have a better chance at escape. Kami-sama, oh how I've fucked up.

"Taichi, help me." Yamato moved closer.

"No!" He slapped the hand reaching for him away. "Don't ask me that any more! I'm doing what I can. I care for you, and I would if I could, but I can't just let you leave. Yagami --"

"Shut the hell up! And I told you to watch who you hit," Yamato snarled, eyes cold and hard in a mask Taichi knew all too well. "I don't want to hear your excuses. Who the hell is Yagami to you that he affects everything you do?"

Taichi sighed. If he told him the truth now, Yamato would probably try to kill him with his bare hands. If he could wait until morning... give them both space and time to recover in... "You don't want an answer to that right now."

"Don't tell me what I fucking want!" Taichi just barely managed to fend off the blow. He was tired, in mind, heart, and body. "Yagami's not just your master," Yamato continued. "He's got his hand so far up your ass he's making your lips move with his lies! You're just his personal little puppet, aren't you? More of a _ningyou_ than I will ever be!" A glob of spit hit Taichi's face. It hadn't been an accident. "So answer me, Doll-Face, why do you follow him? Did he tell you what to say about that?"

Taichi stood and wiped off the liquid. At last he said, "Because he has my soul."

For one moment, Yamato froze as if he had understood. Then, the tenor of the blond's anger swiftly morphed into a rage that made his eyes burn. "Who is that bastard to you?"

Taichi turned away. "It's better this way." Taichi was getting no more than he deserved. It would be unfair to get angry at Yamato for something that was his own fault. Hopefully, in the morning he could set things right.

When he moved away, Yamato stood and took up an aggressive stance. "Better for who?" the blond challenged.

Ignoring him, Taichi bent and collected his scattered clothing, not pausing to put on more than his underwear. The remainder was wadded into a ball and tucked beneath his arm. "It's late. Get some sleep."

Yamato flew at him. "Dammit, Taichi, that's your response to everything, isn't it?!" he yelled, arm swinging high toward Taichi's face. "I'm not a fucking baby you can put down for a nap!"

Taichi managed to deflect the first two strikes, but the third connected at his jaw with enough force to split the skin and bruise the bone. Yamato licked the blood from his knuckles and smiled insanely at Taichi's horror. "What else do you expect? I've barely eaten at all today," he snarled. "You're not treating your _slave_ very well, oh Benevolent One."

Taichi shoved him away as hard as he could. Spinning on his heel, he bolted for the door. A sob escaped his lips as he shut it behind him and his hands trembled as he turned out the light.

Yamato's curses could be heard through the door.

* * *

Kami-sama, what have I done?

He dropped to the floor. The cooler air of the hallway made his skin prickle. He shivered, not just from the cold.

_Focus on the basics,_ he reminded himself numbly.

Taichi had managed to tug on all of his clothes by the time the warning ding of the elevator sounded in the distance.

Someone had spectacularly horrible timing.

Taichi headed to the lift. He wanted to get far away from Yamato's room.

The sight that greeted him nearly stopped his heart in panic. "Hikari!" He quickly glanced over himself to make sure no evidence remained. There was nothing he could do about his face, though. Hopefully he'd wiped all the blood off in the corridor and it didn't look as black and blue as it felt. Empty of other defenses, he pulled out the 'disapproving older brother' frown. "I told you not to come to this floor. It's dangerous. I don't want to change the code, but if..." Hikari's 'concerned younger sister' pout stopped him.

"Awww, Nii-chan, I was worried about you." She stepped away from the cart beside her and darted out to hug him. Her scent was clean and crisp. He held her tightly. "Taichi?" she asked, worry apparent in her voice. She looked up at him and her hand was immediately drawn to the mark on his face. She fingered it carefully. "What happened? I heard yelling."

Taichi released her and shook his head. "It's nothing. Just a small argument. It's over with now."

"Well, I came up here to make sure you were okay... I brought you and your guest dinner, too. Although," she looked up at his face again and frowned. "I can take his food back down."

"No, it's all right." He managed a smile. "Thanks for the dinner. We both appreciate it." He touched his jaw. "This was just an accident. And, you know me. I piss Koushiro off all the time," he joked. "Now I'm with someone who hasn't learned how futile it is to hit back. And after all, I probably deserved it, ne?"

Hikari giggled. "You're such a goof." A gleam of suspicion still remained in her eyes, some sort of sister's intuition, but hopefully she'd forget her doubts soon enough. If he could just play it cool until she left, he could have the whole night to fall apart and put himself back together.

She leaned closer and sniffed his shirt. "You're stinky," she observed tactlessly.

"You saw me earlier this afternoon in the training room," he reminded her, fighting his flush and refusing to acknowledge what else he'd been doing since then. She arched a brow at him and Taichi had to revise his earlier opinion. She wasn't tactless; she was cunning. His sister was no idiot... that position in the family had been reserved solely for him. He gave her a mock bow. "Well, I'm sorry I offend your delicate sensibilities, my Lady. Let me retire to the bathing chamber at once!"

Hikari rolled her eyes. "Goof." Her eyes narrowed. "Koushiro wanted to speak with you, so be sure you go down to talk to him tonight. It sounded important."

Taichi had no desire to talk to Koushiro. He didn't need anyone else telling him how he'd screwed up. If the genius really needed to speak with him, he could contact him directly. Taichi had no intention of leaving his floor, but for his sister, he smiled. "Sure. Let me deliver the food, eat, and freshen up a bit first."

She coughed politely. "A bit?" she asked impishly.

He mussed her hair. "Okay, a lot. That better?"

She reached up to return the favor, then drew back. "If I messed with your hair any more than it has been already, I'd start putting it back into order. What have you been up to, brother mine?" He only hesitated a second, but it was all the confirmation she apparently needed. Hikari eyed his jaw again, gleam returning and a grin spreading across her features. "A lover's quarrel?" She patted him on his good cheek affectionately, even as he tried to deny it. "You're always so careful, it's good to see you happy again," she pronounced.

"Hikari," he sputtered, both embarrassed and (although she certainly didn't intend it) hurt by the irony of her words.

She fixed him with her best glare, the one the sixteen-year old reserved for special occasions. "Tell him if he hurts you again, I'll whack him."

He rubbed his forehead. It was useless to chide her. Despite their age difference, they each took turns looking out for the other. He'd always taken care of her, but with their father away, he knew she made it her responsibility to watch out for him. Normally, Taichi didn't need it and he felt like he wasn't doing his duty when he did, but he wasn't handling being an adult very well at the moment. He managed a genuine smile, grateful for his sister's love. "Actually," he told her, grinning even more at the thought. "If you really wanted to get back at him, all you'd have to do is set Miko on him."

She gaped. "I thought you were kidding when you said he was afraid of her."

Taichi chuckled. "Hard to imagine a grown man afraid of a slightly-larger than average cat, isn't it?"

Brown eyes looked at him speculatively. "Oh, I don't know," she drawled. "I seem to recall a certain someone who refused to clean under his bed because he was afraid of the dust mites."

And that was just last year, too. "Why you..." he began in mock-anger, a smile already forming. Taichi wasn't afraid of bugs... blood-sucking things were just _creepy_. It was a reasonable aversion. Besides, Hikari was afraid of ghosts, and they didn't even exist. He made to grab her and mess up her hair more, but she startled him by giving another hug.

"Good night, Taichi," Hikari said sweetly. The syrupy smile faded as she searched his face, looking for something. "Don't forget to stop by Koushiro's, all right?" The concern was back, hidden, but still there.

"Right," he replied, with still no intention to do so. "Good night, sis."

She waved until the lift's doors blocked her from view.

* * *

In the elevator, Hikari paced back and forth and missed the feel of Miko's fur beneath her fingers. She knew her brother wouldn't tell her what was truly going on out of some misguided notion of protection. She could tell he was happy... of a different sort than his normal cheerfulness. And she _knew_ what those noises had been, even if Taichi wouldn't admit to it. Although, the blush he'd been sporting was confirmation enough.

She had heard yelling, though, too, and while Taichi didn't seem upset about his injury, he was hurting over something. She was glad she'd been able to distract him, cheer him up even momentarily. Koushiro would have to do the rest.

Once in her rooms, Hikari could call Koushiro and ask him to make sure Taichi was all right. The bruise on Taichi's face didn't look too bad, but she had no way of knowing how fresh it was, or if it had developed its full color. Her brother's friend would forgive and support her lie. And for all she knew, Koushiro probably _did_ want to speak with Taichi. At least... he certainly would after she was finished talking to him.

* * *

Taichi let out a long sigh, then smiled to himself. No matter what happened, he would always have Hikari. If anything happened to her... No, nothing ever would. He wouldn't let it. He would protect his baby sister to his last breath.

Because of her, the ache in his heart weighed less heavily on him.

Thinking about Yamato still caused him overwhelming anguish, so, in probably what was his wisest decision of the night, he refused to think about the man any more. Lovely food smells drifted up from the cart Hikari had left behind. Two covered trays sat atop it.

Okay, so I can't get rid of him quite so easily, but after this I'm going straight to bed.

He marched back to Yamato's room and shoved the plate through the flap. The light-switch on the wall he left untouched. Taichi snorted and headed back to his chambers.

He can eat it in the dark.

* * *

From behind her, there was the quiet sound of the door whooshing open. Light footsteps, moving carefully. "Lord Sora?" a girl's voice questioned.

Sora continued reading to the bottom of the document before lifting her head and turning to face the waiting slave. The youth bowed, expertly balancing the tray she was holding during the sharp movement.

"The food you requested, Lord."

Sora turned her attention to the lighted map displaying on the viewscreen. "Set it down," she commanded without making eye-contact.

When there was no sound of the girl's retreat, Sora shifted once more and gazed at the slave through narrowed eyes, her face carefully not displaying the irritation she was experiencing. The restraint was not for the sake of sparing the girl's feelings. Expressing emotions revealed one's own weaknesses -- not that this fragile slip of a child would ever be a danger to her. Her mother's slaves were well-treated and extremely loyal.

"Speak."

To her credit, the only discomfort the girl showed at the harsh order was a slight quaver in her voice. "Lady Kalisto wished me to inform you of the late hour." Her posture remained firm and upright. _She will make a fine soldier once she's grown._ The lithe body would be well-suited to acrobatics. _A nimble fighter makes for swifter kills._ Sora made a mental note to assign the girl for training. It was best to begin young.

Meanwhile, displeasure coursed through her at Kalisto's presumption. Sora was not a child to be sent to her bed merely because the hour was late. Yet Kalisto, who had been a close friend to Sora's deceased maternal grandmother, was irreproachable and frequently excused her indiscretions by announcing her concern for Sora's well-being. Put simply, the woman was an annoying nag.

"Will you be wishing to retire soon, Lord?" the slave asked hesitantly.

Sora's mind tracked to the barely-touched datapad on the floor in the corner -- a message from her mother. There was still much work to be done. "No."

The girl almost took a step back, but caught herself. "Lady Kalisto bade me remind you of your promise to her."

Sora's lips tightened in disapproval, despite her inner battle to remain calm. _Damn nosy old hag._ "Inform the Lady Kalisto that I will seek my bed only after my tasks are completed," she answered tightly.

An alarm quietly beeped on the console behind her. She whirled at the sound, eyes already scanning the screen for the threat.

Not for the first time, Sora wished her mother had kept her father around. If a man were present, she doubted the other young Lords would try so frequently to usurp their land. The High Lords knew better -- the Takenouchi military kept the seat unshakably in the family's hands -- but many a grasping young idiot challenged her family's rule and was subsequently taught a harsh lesson.

The present attack came from the north-eastern quadrant. _Most likely some juvenile upstart from Osamu's land, then._ Through coded signals, Sora dispatched two units to deal with the fleet of attackers. No more would be needed -- her soldiers were well-trained and well-armed. Their military technology was the best in Japan.

She felt a prickling at her shoulder and turned. The girl was still standing there.

"I gave you an order, slave," she ground out, straining to be civil.

"Yes, Lord." The girl bowed, but stood her ground.

Sensing that there was a reason for the disobedience, Sora studied her face. "You have a question. Speak."

"I was wondering, Lord, if you had any news of my sister. She is my only family."

Sora took up the datapad resting on the counter behind her. "Name?"

The girl breathed out her sister's name so softly and with such reverence, Sora had to strain to hear it, but she entered the name into the military database. KILLED IN ACTION, it read. Three weeks past. The girl should have received notice a long time ago. Sora made another note to speak with her commanders about delivering notices promptly. With any luck, the lesson could be applied to improve overall timeliness.

The girl was still waiting, her blue eyes wide.

"Your sister is dead." The girl's brows arched and crinkled in pain, but Sora continued. "Relay my message to Lady Kalisto." A soft lower lip trembled and tears were forming in the cerulean eyes. "You may go now." It was more of an order than permission.

The girl fled without bowing. Sora forgave the oversight and let her leave, watching until the door shut and locked behind her sobs, then she turned back to the console.

A moment of heavy silence filled the room.

"You could have been nicer, Sora," spoke the soft voice of her partner from her perch in the near corner.

Conscience twisted inside her and in response, pain gouged at her heart. Sora brushed it all away and shrugged. "No sense in cushioning the girl from reality. I merely spoke the truth." She had made the same announcement numerous times. Death was always close at hand in times of war... and Takenouchi women were always participants in war. It was their destiny.

"She was only a child, Sora," Piyomon persisted.

The young Lord glanced over at the creature that resembled the near-extinct rose-breasted cockatoo. "Youth is no guarantee against pain and sorrow," Sora said quietly. "A lie would have been more cruel."

* * *

Piyomon let her feathers fluff in agitation, but decided to say nothing further on the matter. Her Chosen was speaking from a place of hurt that could not be mended with mere words. Instead, she nodded her beak at the discarded datapad, picking a battle of a different sort.

"You shouldn't avoid it any longer."

Eyes focused on something invisible, Sora nodded mutely.

Sensing that her Chosen needed a helping push, Piyomon flew to the opposite corner where the datapad had been flung in a rare fit of temper, and snatched it up in her talons. She dropped her burden in Sora's lap before landing on the woman's shoulder.

Beneath her, Sora straightened in order to more comfortably bear her weight. Piyomon gripped the aged, yet thick, leather shoulder pad as her Chosen shifted. Once Sora was still, Piyomon scooted along the pad, gave the woman's ear a nibble, then set to running her beak soothingly through the short auburn hair.

Sora sighed and reached up to scratch at Piyomon's blue-feathered crest.

"What's wrong, Sora? What did she write?" The digimon maneuvered so that she could see the datapad better. She knew Sora had been upset by her mother's latest letter (not an uncommon reaction), but she didn't yet know why.

"It's nothing new. I shouldn't be so upset. It's just that, again, Mother took time out of her war campaign to relay her displeasure at my recent purchases at the masque. Apparently, not enough of them were capable of learning productive skills," she said, her voice tight with restrained anger. "It's not my fault that the majority of slaves offered were pleasure slaves. And that perverted fuck, Yagami, snapped up most of the ones that looked like they'd show some spirit in battle. With the money that she allotted for purchasing new slaves this season, I couldn't afford to outbid him."

She sank wearily back into the seat. "I hate it when she does this... just picking at me for no reason, or reasons beyond my control. Valid criticism I can take, but this..." she waved the datapad, "It's just crap."

Piyomon nestled closer and resumed grooming her Chosen. Sometimes when Sora was upset like this, she would nibble on a spot near Sora's ear to make the woman giggle, but in this instance, she doubted Sora would appreciate, or even register, the attempt.

"I'm no longer just a Lady. I've won the title of 'Lord'," Sora continued softly. "Mother expects me to take her place at Council meetings when she can't make them. I have command of several thousand slaves for purposes military or otherwise. And yet, she still takes time out of her busy schedule of conquering foreign lands to nit-pick my decisions."

The woman leaned her head to the side, obviously forgetting her companion, and Piyomon had to take a quick step away to avoid being knocked into. Her talons must have gripped more tightly than usual for Sora turned to look at her.

"Sorry," Sora murmured, offering a scratch beneath the soft pink feathers where Piyomon couldn't reach. The digimon trilled in pleasure, then tilted her head to allow her Chosen better access. "I don't understand her. She expects me to rule when she's gone, and yet she always finds fault with whatever I do, and..." the words trailed off into a sigh, every possible complaint already voiced at some point in time or another.

Piyomon rubbed back against Sora's fingers. There wasn't much else she could do or say. Sora wasn't often like this. The young woman usually hated indecision and self-pity, but there never was an easy or satisfactory answer for her troubles with her mother. Partially, though, Piyomon felt that it had always had something to do with Sora being Chosen -- not Piyomon's fault, but something for which Lord Takenouchi had always blamed Piyomon for... as if her daughter never acquiring a digimon partner would somehow negate her Chosen status. No... all that would have accomplished would have been to put Sora in danger of attack.

Sora was lucky that, of the numerous species of endangered birds the Takenouchi's raised, a few were in fact digimon. The people of this world commonly thought that they were mutant breeds, created in laboratory experiments, but the truth was that they came from another plane of existence entirely... or so some of the older digimon had told Piyomon when she was younger. Of those digimon still living in the eyrie, none were clear on what being Chosen meant, but they had agreed that Sora should be protected at any cost. The older digimon had also told her tales of how Sora's grandmother was Chosen, and consequently, had died at a young age.

Sora's mother was raised by her grandmother's friend, Lady Kalisto, and Piyomon had always wondered how the same woman could raise both Lord Takenouchi and Sora and produce two such different humans.

_But are they really so different?_ Piyomon mused.

Surely, being a female meant that Sora had to work ten times as hard to win her place in the world than a male, but her mother expected a hundred-fold effort. She thought back over Sora's response to the slave-girl.

Treating her roughly to strengthen her against a harsh world...

But was that the best way? Was that the only solution?

What other way is there?

On the one wing, it was possible to help one person at a time, giving them the skills and materials needed for survival. It was the plan started by Sora's grandmother and continued grudgingly by Lord Takenouchi -- although Sora's mother was more interested in expanding her power overseas than in day-to-day life here. And Sora, for her part, and from what Piyomon had been told of the older woman, took after her grandmother, hiding away her softer emotions. Although she might not seem to care, it was the depth of her feeling that made her come across so harsh. She pushed everyone around her and herself until they were perfect, then pushed them some more. That way, they had a fighting chance at survival. But was it the best way?

With all the pain that still occurred, Piyomon refused to believe that there were no other options. But short of changing the entire system, of completely removing the threat, of erasing the slavery that kept people from challenging those in power... she could see no other way.

In the silence that followed her thoughts circling to a conclusion without finding a solution, Piyomon realized that Sora had remained quiet for far too long. Next to her, her Chosen sat unmoving, her face frighteningly devoid of expression.

Piyomon scooted closer and bit down on the flesh of her ear.

There was a sudden rush of air into the body beneath her. It was forced out with equal swiftness as Sora let loose a short sigh.

"Right," she said quietly. "Enough moping out of me. Back to work." Piyomon nipped at the earlobe again. "OW!" The cry of pain was muffled quickly. "_Piyomon_," Sora said in warning.

"Sora, there's nothing more you can do tonight. Let's just go to bed... please?"

Her Chosen's gray eyes darkened to the color of storm clouds. "You're siding with Kalisto now?"

Piyomon fluffed her feathers in exasperation. "I'm not taking sides. I've been thinking and meanwhile, you've been staring off into space."

"I've been thinking too," Sora snapped.

Piyomon said nothing for a moment, then asked gently, "Did it help?"

Her Chosen said nothing and the fight slowly melted from her eyes.

"Get some rest, Sora. It's nearly dawn. Whatever you've got here can wait until tomorrow afternoon." When Sora did not stir, Piyomon moved her head menacingly close to the woman's ear. "Do I have to bite you again?"

It was a gentle threat -- she had never drawn blood with her beak and besides, Sora was considerably bigger and could knock her off her perch with the same speed that Piyomon could strike. But the caring emotion behind the words was enough.

Sora set her mother's message aside. Reaching out with her hand, the woman hit a few last buttons on the control panel then stood slowly, allowing Piyomon enough time to balance. They left as soon as the relief watch arrived, and with only a nod of the head on Sora's part. In the halls, one of the guards they passed suffered the misfortune of being caught in the act of napping. All things considered, Sora let him off lightly, only assigning a month on the labor crew as punishment. Normally she also delivered a long, scathing lecture on responsibility and the dangers of leaving his post unguarded, so Piyomon took the leniency as a sign of how truly tired the woman was. Thankfully, the remainder of the trip to Sora's bedchambers went smoothly and both human and digimon wasted no time in getting settled into their places of rest.

Although she herself was tired, Piyomon stayed awake, watching as her Chosen tossed and turned fitfully before finally managing to find the comfort of slumber. And Piyomon watched, still, as her Chosen began crying in her sleep. For short of going to war against the world, there was nothing the digimon could do.

* * *

There was no way of knowing how Taichi's brain would translate Koushiro's touch in the dream-world he was wrapped in.

Beneath Koushiro's fingers, his friend's body surged upright. The thin coverlet pooled in his lap and Koushiro felt his face warm when he noticed the unbroken line of skin running from Taichi's waist to his thigh. _Since when does Taichi sleep in the nude?_ He shook his head, focusing. The dim glow from the hallway outside provided just enough illumination to see that brown eyes were open and unfocused. Taichi's breath came in heavy pants. Koushiro backed off the bed, remembering other times he had tried to wake Taichi. The man didn't have nightmares often, but for the first few seconds after them he had a tendency to be violent.

"Taichi."

A fist shot out in his direction with enough force to leave a bruise if it had connected. The action was no more than Koushiro expected and he neatly swayed to the side in avoidance.

"Taichi, you're awake, so start acting like it," he snapped, putting the force of his frustration behind it.

Taichi took in a shaky breath. "Koushiro?" His body sagged and he flopped back to his pillows.

With the threat of bodily injury over, Koushiro edged closer and wiped some of the sweaty hair from Taichi's face. "Moron."

Taichi turned his head away. "Why are you here?"

Koushiro scowled. Hikari had asked him to check up on her brother, hinting that there were not-so-platonic activities going on between the Lord and his guest. Koushiro wasn't sure how he felt about that news. He'd decided to leave the matter until morning, but at Hikari's insistence, he fed the surveillance images of Taichi's room to his laptop and kept watch. During the complex process of dissecting his own feelings, the nightmare began. He didn't want to bring his confused emotions up tonight, so it was best to stick to the simpler truth.

"Hikari wanted me to check on you."

Taichi looked over at him, puzzled. "She told me you wanted to talk to me about something important." Koushiro couldn't school his expression quickly enough and Taichi sighed when he guessed the truth. "I wouldn't go to you, so she sent you to me."

"Something like that," Koushiro admitted. "You know how she is." That won a smile from Taichi. "I was going to leave it until morning, but it didn't look like the rest was doing you any good."

"What are you doing still up?" Taichi asked curiously. He looked at the clock. "It's really late. Or should that be early?"

"The Kaizer tried to get at our accounts earlier today. I was beefing up the levels of encryption and transferred funds out of areas that were no longer as secure." He'd also been working on additional security measures for the fortress, thanks to the fiasco earlier with Yamato, but now wasn't the time to point that out. "Want to talk about the dream?"

"No. All it means is that I'm an idiot... no new information there." The tension in Taichi's voice could have been from fatigue, but Koushiro suspected he was lying as well.

"This was worse than some of your others."

"I _don't_ want to talk about it."

"Fine, then start talking about what went on tonight with Yamato. You were supposed to talk to him, not fuck him." He winced at his own words -- they were rougher than he normally used. Yamato brought out the worst in him. Already, Taichi was shaking his head in denial and that sparked enough anger to help him continue without questioning his own motives. "You did, didn't you." Statement, not question.

"No... yes... sort of." He hung his head. "Talking didn't exactly work."

Koushiro snorted. "Obviously. That's a lovely bruise you're sporting. Did you at least learn anything worthwhile from the encounter? Did he kill them?"

"I don't think he did. I'm not sure what happened, but I know he didn't intend for people to die. Other than that, nothing's definite. I still can't tell for certain if he's been planted here or not. He wants to leave, though. He hates Yagami and he's... confused... about me. I tried telling him the truth, subtly, and he missed my point." Taichi worried the corner of the blanket between his fingers. "I don't want to lie to him anymore. There's nothing to be gained from it."

If Yamato was told the truth, he could never be allowed to leave. Taichi's feelings wouldn't go away. If Yamato stayed, Taichi would find a way to bring the two of them together. Or else Taichi would end up very hurt. _That means..._ Koushiro pushed his feelings down. He had no right to feel jealousy. He had no claim to Taichi other than friendship, and until Yamato came into the picture, that hadn't even been an issue.

Koushiro wondered if one could feel themselves going crazy.

_These feelings aren't for Taichi,_ he told himself fiercely. _They're caused by him making me aware that I don't have anyone. It's a normal hormonal reaction and Taichi's just convenient. I'm happy with our friendship... or at least the way it was before Yamato started taking over Taichi's mind._

Koushiro sighed. There was little chance of Yamato leaving. Koushiro had a feeling the manipulating ex-Lord was going to be a pain in his side for a good long while. _Taichi's going to want him to stay._

"I guess the question now becomes, do you keep Yamato here for the rest of his life, or do you let him go free? You could let him go... before he learns anything more about us."

"If I let him go, he'd never come back." Taichi stretched an arm out then tucked it beneath his head. "I want him to stay, he wants to leave, and the right thing... I want to be able to make this decision myself, but there are more lives at stake than just my own. Two people are already dead... I don't want any one else to suffer from my mistakes."

It wasn't just Taichi's fault, Koushiro knew. His hands were just as stained and it was his earlier advice that had brought them here. He looked down, then hastily tugged the coverlet up several inches. Taichi didn't seem to notice. His eyes were locked on the ceiling, searching out patterns in the texture as if they were constellations in a star-spreckled sky. Their indecision didn't suit either of them.

Koushiro took a deep breath. If Yamato really was here as a spy, they were screwed. "I think..." he began, resting a hand carefully on Taichi's arm, "I think you should do what you want." Taichi jerked upward, but he settled back down at Koushiro's light pressure. "You love him, right?" The words cost them both. A war of emotions flickered across Taichi's face before the man nodded and agreed with more motion than sound. "Then follow your gut. Tell him the truth. He won't be able to leave, but then you don't really want to let him go, anyway."

"He's going to hate me when he learns the truth."

That possibility didn't bother Koushiro as much as it did Taichi, but he managed to say something supportive. He was here tonight for Taichi's sake alone. "You've always been able to charm your way out of your other problems. Yamato shouldn't be too different. If he's as special as you believe, he'll come around."

"And if I can't? If he isn't? If he doesn't?"

_Am I worth nothing, then? You'll always have me._ Koushiro clamped down on the mushy thought. _That's just nonsense,_ he chided himself and resolutely ignored the urge to hug Taichi with an edge of self-disgust. _I'm getting as hormone-driven as Taichi. Next I'll be complaining I need to get laid..._ His eyes drifted over Taichi's sprawled form. _Oh..._ The blanket had slipped dangerously low again. He wrenched his eyes back to Taichi's face and was eternally thankful that the other man was still too wrapped up in his own troubles to notice Koushiro's. _Get it together, genius-boy._

They were best friends. It made sense that Koushiro would be jealous of _any_ lover that Taichi wanted to take. The fact that Taichi wanted that brat of an ex-Lord made it all the worse, but Koushiro couldn't control Taichi's heart. He doubted even his best friend could do that. Either way, Koushiro couldn't say that loving Yamato was an absolute mistake... and without that conviction, being anything other than cautiously supportive would just be needlessly hurtful.

Koushiro sighed softly. "If Yamato doesn't realize he's got a good thing going here, then you'll find a way to make him see it. Truthfully, Taichi, I don't trust him at all, but I do trust you. We've had this discussion before. I'll always back you up unless you're making an obvious mistake. And now... there's no way to tell what the future holds. So, whatever you decide to do, I support you."

Taichi was silent. Koushiro hoped he was thinking, and not just staring off into space as he appeared to be. "I'll tell him tomorrow," he said at last. "I'll have to dress up as Yagami. He won't believe it any other way. I want to speak to him alone, but will you watch from the security room?"

"I will. I'll set up the cameras in there tonight. Get some rest." He gave a comforting squeeze on Taichi's arm, then stood. "You've had a busy day today and I doubt tomorrow will be any easier. Good night."

Taichi smiled up at him, his first since the nightmare. "Night, Kou." Brown eyes shone gently. "Thank you."

Koushiro nodded with an answering smile and softly closed the door behind him. His duty complete, he returned to his room. Exhaustion descended swiftly then and Koushiro welcomed it as a mercy, even though he normally wouldn't go to bed for several hours yet and he had several dozen things to do, including setting the cameras in Taichi's false throne-room. _I can do that tomorrow morning,_ he decided wearily. If Yamato rejected Taichi, the day would be hell for everybody. Koushiro needed all the sleep he could get.

* * *

Yamato's memories were hazy when he first awoke -- like a long, bad dream. He could remember escaping, meeting up with strange men who had given him a transmitter, waking in darkness, Taichi's anger, Taichi's love, Taichi's lies.

He didn't know what to trust anymore. When he thought about it... and Taichi had left him with plenty of time to think about it... everything had probably been a lie. Or some sort of game.

Like me. Trust me. Love me.

Taichi had been sending the messages, and Yamato had foolishly allowed himself to hope that the young Lord's desire to help was genuine. And he'd stooped so low as to beg for sex from his jailer. Taichi was probably sitting with Yagami now, just laughing.

In a normal situation, the frustration would have led him to flop backwards on the mattress with a sigh... but his muscles were twitching for action, so he stood and began pacing.

Taichi's desire had felt real at first. And maybe it had been, but something had changed. Something in Taichi had made him stop. If Taichi's desire had been genuine, why then make it seem as if that desire was morally wrong? Yagami had to be behind Taichi's strange reluctance. It was the only explanation.

The Lord had said they were the same, but Taichi and Yagami seemed hardly alike. Yamato certainly couldn't see Yagami letting a physical attack slide without punishment. The Lord hadn't fought back and later, although the lights were never turned on, a tray of food had been shoved through the door.

As the lights were still off, Yamato supposed he _was_ being punished, in a way. The room he was in -- his first one, the one he was brought to after losing consciousness elsewhere in the fortress -- was bare and lacked control over things as basic as light. The situation had probably been constructed to specifically emphasize Yamato's lack of control and therefore his dependence on Taichi.

It had to be a game, then. One where Taichi steals his trust and then betrays him in the end.

And damn my foolishness, but there's still a part of me that wants to believe in him.

He couldn't allow himself to be weak, though. Not now. Not in a situation as dangerous as this.

He was tired of waking up and not knowing what was going on. He assumed it was morning, but he had no real way of telling, and he was tired of that too. Most of all, he was tired of wondering what Taichi was thinking. Being hostile hadn't worked. Being seductive and accommodating hadn't either. There was the rare possibility that Taichi didn't _know_ what he wanted. In that event, it would be impossible to guess and attempt to satisfy his desires. If, on the other hand, the brunet knew exactly what game he was playing, his fate was already decided no matter what actions he took. Either way, Taichi and Yagami had placed him in a situation of zero control... or so they thought.

Yamato had learned all too well such mind tricks at his father's side. He would not fall to the machinations of another bastard-Lord so easily.

No, playing their game would never do. He had more self-respect than that.

If he was being played, he'd have to start a game of his own -- one with his own rules.

In the darkness, his fingers found the thin transmitter. As he held it, his redoubling body heat made the metal transform into a lovely, burning feather-weight against his palm.

* * *

The doctor's eyes lit up when Hikari entered the medical ward. Then his gaze traveled from her wrist and down the leash to the harness that Miko wore.

Hikari gave the man a chagrined look. After Miko's last disappearing stunt Hikari had wanted to take a few precautions to ensure it wouldn't happen again. The leash wasn't her first choice, but Miko had almost escaped from Hikari's rooms on several occasions. Now Hikari found it easiest to keep her cat with her. Miko, docile as ever, didn't protest wearing the harness and seemed to enjoy being out of Hikari's rooms and trotting alongside her owner.

Though his eyes were still fixed questioningly on the harness, the doctor politely refrained from commenting. Instead, he held a clipboard out to her.

"If you finish your usual morning rounds and still feel like lending a hand, come find me. There was a drilling accident at the Miyazaki site yesterday and the nurses have more than they can handle."

She looked at him in surprise. Although she could assist in checking vitals and recording them on the charts, she didn't have the training necessary to care for a wounded patient. If the doctor was asking for her help on non-clerical duties, it was a needful situation indeed.

"Are they really that bad off?"

He grimaced and nodded. "We could use an extra pair of gentle hands. The burn victims are in a lot of pain."

She winced in sympathy and took the board from him. "I'll finish these, then do my best to help you wherever I can."

"If you do come, be sure to go through decontamination first, and your pet will have to stay out. Their immune systems can't handle any more stress." His hand reached out and squeezed her shoulder in thanks, then Hikari was watching his back as he hurried at not quite a run back to the critical care ward.

The first room she had to check on was off to her left, but Miko's attention was fixed on something to their right. She jiggled the handle to the leash, not really tugging on it, but moving it enough to catch the cat's attention.

"Come on, Miko. This way." Hikari took a step away. Three steps away, at the point where the leash would begin tugging on the harness, Miko finally turned and moved to walk beside Hikari's heels.

"What's with you, Miko?"

Not receiving an answer, she opened the first door.

The cat moved restlessly while Hikari checked on the patients in the room, almost pacing within the confines of the leash. A few of the women were awake and one asked her in a hushed voice to help her sit up. Not seeing any restrictions in the woman's chart, Hikari supported her and fluffed the pillows before leaning the patient back. She filled the bedside glasses with water, made a few last notations on her board and moved on to the next room to repeat the process.

Some people, usually those not too severely injured, were placed in larger rooms with more patients. Those in more serious conditions had rooms of their own where they could recover their strength in peace. In the larger rooms, Miko was a welcome distraction. The few children present were delighted to have a furry playmate, even if only for ten minutes. Yet Miko, who usually enjoyed herself as much as the children, kept twitching to look at the door of whatever room they were in. Hikari began to fear that the cat would bolt and she gripped the loop of the leash tighter. Miko stayed put... even when the youngsters became overly fascinated with her tail... but the looks at the door somehow took on more desperation.

About an hour later, Hikari had worked her way over to the other side of the ward. She began to enter one room, but Miko began pulling against the harness toward a door across the hall. Curious about her pet's behavior and a little surprised at the cat's strength, Hikari let herself be dragged.

Now that she was closer, she frowned. This was the same room Miko had disappeared from before. She'd left her napping next to the old man and had later returned to find her missing, the door standing wide open. While she hesitated, Miko meowed and scratched at the metal.

Gathering up the leash so that it became shorter, she opened the door, uncertain of what she'd find. Hikari peered in cautiously, then let out an irritated huff and stepped in the rest of the way when everything looked exactly the way it should.

"There's nothing here, Miko. See?"

Miko bolted to the end of the leash, aiming for the bed.

"No," Hikari told her firmly, walking instead to the holder on the far wall and picking up the elderly man's chart. Miko tolerated the confinement, but as soon as she was leaning over to change the setting on his IV, her cat leapt to the top of the bed.

"Down now, Miko." Blue eyes gazed at her before swinging to focus on the man's face. "Miko, get _down_."

Ignoring her commands, the cat continued to walk slowly toward the head of the bed. Stepping closer, Hikari moved to pick up the misbehaving feline, but the second her hands touched fur, Miko twisted around and closed her teeth on Hikari's finger. It wasn't a true bite -- the teeth exerted only the gentlest of pressures -- but Hikari was completely flummoxed by her pet's behavior.

"Okay..." she said slowly. "You want to stay here?"

Eyes that had been staring unblinkingly at her closed, then opened.

Now what was she supposed to do? She'd asked a question to her _cat_ and had received some sort response. And still, Miko gripped her finger. Hikari had been holding it motionless since the instant she'd felt teeth. Now she was torn between continuing to wait and trying to pry her hand free.

Miko continued to stare at her. With her free hand, Hikari smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture. Quickly, though, she brought that hand over her mouth to cover a gasp of surprise.

Miko's eyes were glowing.

And Hikari felt tears build in her own. _Why didn't I see it before?_

Why had none of them realized that Miko was so much more than what she'd seemed? Hikari wasn't sure exactly _what_ Miko was. Her overprotective brother would never have allowed a potential danger near her, so she doubted that the cat was one of the mutants. But then again, as far as Hikari knew, normal cats didn't have luminescent blue eyes that could light up a dim room.

"You're not a cat, are you?" she whispered, already knowing the answer. The glowing eyes blinked once, then the light faded. The pressure on her finger increased ever so slightly.

Miko seemed to be waiting for something.

"So, you're not letting me go until I promise to let you do whatever you want?"

Blink.

Blue eyes -- the same ones that greeted her when she woke up, the same ones that closed in contentment whenever Hikari scratched beneath her chin, the same ones that had called to her through the bars of a cage in a room that had held more than a hundred rare animals. Miko had always been gentle with her.

She licked dry lips and her words came out tenderly formal. "The Miko that I know and love wouldn't hurt someone without good reason. So, I promise I won't try to stop you." She wasn't entirely sure that would fix the problem, but before she could get too nervous, Miko released her finger.

Out of habit, she reached to stroke the soft fur for comfort... an assurance that things were well between them. Miko avoided her hand with a hiss.

Heartbroken, Hikari let the arm hang at her side. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have."

How many times had she submitted the creature to unwanted caresses? Intelligence blazed in elliptical irises. Although not human, Miko was a person. Hikari tried to imagine being picked up by something more than five times her size, then being molested by giant hands. She shivered. "I'm sorry. I never even stopped to think if you enjoyed being petted."

Despite her misery, something about the tilt to Miko's head made Hikari feel as if she'd said something incredibly foolish. It only cheered her slightly. Miko's head swivelled to look at the old man, then she cautiously walked over his body and sprang up to place her two forepaws on Hikari's chest.

There was a flash of wet roughness against her cheek and then Miko was once again making her way with care to stand beside the old man's pillow. It took Hikari a few seconds to register what happened.

She licked me.

Miko didn't hate her. Everything would be all right.

Because of that trust... when the pink fog started pouring out of her one-time-pet's mouth, Hikari only backed up two small steps.

* * *

The transmitter had already been hidden in the crevice of Yamato's cheek for a long while when Taichi chose to make an appearance.

This time, the Lord only opened the door wide enough to stick his head through and give Yamato a sweeping glance.

"Come on. Put your shirt on and follow me," he ordered.

The Lord hadn't been in the room long enough for Yamato to properly gauge his emotions, but his absence in the room was a clue in itself. The door was still open a crack, Taichi waiting for him on the other side.

Why is he out there? Why does he care how I'm dressed?

Reflexively, his tongue strayed to brush against the transmitter.

"The shirt, Yamato," Taichi spoke from beyond the door.

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you get dragged to see Yagami without one."

_No..._ He stiffened. _Not again._

He quelled his fear with a long breath and picked up the shirt. One of the buttons was gone, but the rest still closed properly -- not perfect, but still functional... just like this situation. As much as he dreaded Yagami's sadistic tendencies, it would mean he would be close. Close enough to finally take back control.

"So." Yamato appeared at the door. "No collar today?" he asked, keeping his voice light and conversational.

"No. You don't need one. This way." Taichi stepped to the side, allowing Yamato freedom to follow the hallway down to the left.

The blond paused in the doorway. "And if I decide to run?"

"There's nowhere for you to go."

Taichi still hadn't smiled. He hadn't tried to reassure Yamato. He wasn't his usual exuberant self. He wasn't faking anything this time. Yamato felt a shiver ripple up his spine. Something big had changed.

Yagami wants to see me. This can't be good.

Yamato walked. "What's this about? "

"Lord Yagami wishes to speak with you," Taichi said stiffly.

"Am I in trouble?" Yagami had probably heard about the guards' deaths.

There was a pause. "What, for the sex last night? No." It was said too casually.

Probably regrets it. After the way he stormed out of here... at least he slid some food in.

Most suspected accessories to murder didn't get dinner. Of course, most interrogators didn't suck off their suspects either.

Wait... yesterday night... he went from upset about the men dying to nearly fucking me... and he didn't get anything out of it. Did he? Or was it just another layer to the game?

Yamato went over his memories of what had been said and done. Once the worry over possible punishment had passed, and until Taichi stormed out, the whole encounter had been very pleasurable.

The recollection of Taichi's talented tongue brought warmth to Yamato's cheeks, but he squashed the feeling, knowing that Taichi's response hadn't affirmed or denied his danger. Senses peaked, Yamato pressed on, structuring his question, searching for answers. "Well, there is that, but I was thinking more about the men that were killed. Even you seemed upset with me yesterday," he ventured carefully.

"No, he's not angry with you," the Lord said in a clipped tone. "You'll be safe. He just wants to talk."

Another shiver, anger and fear all muddled. "Are you going to be there?"

There was quiet behind Yamato. He looked back. Taichi's expression was hardened, but his voice was softer than before when he finally spoke. "Yeah, I'll be nearby."

These words made him shiver most of all.

* * *

Yamato was directed by Taichi along a new and winding route leading to a room that was small and cramped, as if it had been designed for something else and later converted into a waiting area. The decor was in line with Yagami's enjoyment of keeping people uneasy. With only two steel chairs and a low stone table, the room held the bare minimum in furniture. Two doors were set into the walls -- one leading back out into the hallway, the other presumably opening to where Yagami would receive him. On the table, fruit, bread, and cheeses were arranged on a platter next to a plastic pitcher of water.

"Cozy place," Yamato quipped, settling in one of the uncomfortable chairs. The metal mesh that served as seat and back support always left pressure marks on his skin.

Taichi made an off-hand nod, not really listening. Like before, he remained paused in the doorway.

"What, too high and mighty to sit next to me while we wait, Lordling?" Yamato jibed, expecting a negative reaction from Taichi. At this point, he was willing to say anything to clear that awful neutral look from the normally cheerful face. If this was Taichi's true face, Yamato was beginning to prefer the mask.

But if anything, the brunet's expression became even more bland after the jibe. It seemed the Lord preferred an unsubtle 'faking it' to revealing his actual feelings.

"Wait here," Taichi instructed.

"But you said you'd --" Yamato shut his mouth before he further made himself appear sickeningly dependent on Taichi's presence. "You aren't coming in with me?" Yamato asked, with less emotion.

"No. I make my reports to Yagami in private. You'll go in to talk after I'm through."

The implications of Taichi's absence pointed towards the meeting being unpleasant.

"What's he going to do to me?"

Taichi dismissed his questions with a shake of the head. "I'll be close by. Nothing will happen to you," he said, still carefully neutral. "You have nothing to fear."

"I'm _not_ afraid," Yamato snarled. "Hating someone and wishing them dead doesn't mean you fear them."

Taichi blinked and the modicum of compassion that twinkled in his eye also melted the tenseness of his jaw. "It's okay. All you'll be doing is talking, Yamato."

Yamato wasn't about to let the now-soothing tone affect him. He knew now how well Taichi could twist the truth. "We'll be talking about my 'training' then, I suppose?" he asked, letting the annoyance break free in his voice. He'd had enough of Yagami's sadistic crap and Taichi's lies.

Taichi was looking strained now. "Honestly, it's not like that. He just wants to talk to you. It's a good thing. For both of us."

"Why? You like the near-fuck you almost got last night and ask your Master for more? Is he giving his _ningyou_ to you instead?"

A look of pain tightened the features of Taichi's face. He took a step closer to Yamato, but halted still a few paces away. "Yamato, I'm sorry I lost my self-control with you last night. I... Don't you see? I'm not that much different from Yagami."

It would be easier to manipulate Taichi than Yagami. There was a chance of Taichi cracking, if his soft heart weren't completely faked. "There's a difference. If it was a choice between you and him --" Yamato began.

"Forget it," Taichi said, breaking in. "You're not being offered a choice right now." In his next breath, he gentled. "Everything will work out, though. I'll be near. Just hang in there a little longer."

Ah. Bye-bye resolute indifference.

Strange. Perhaps Taichi _did_ care for Yamato. Maybe honesty would crack the man where hatred and seduction had failed.

"Taichi, I want to be free of him. I'm going to do whatever I have to in order to achieve that. If there's a way that you can help me... please," he finished, making as formal a bow as possible from a sitting position.

Taichi closed the distance between them. "I've given you all the freedom I can."

He snorted and tried to turn away. "Whatever."

"Yamato, it's _not_ 'whatever,'" Taichi said, guiding Yamato's face upwards with a tender hand. "Tell me. Do you really feel as if I own you? Could you ever be truly owned by anyone?"

For all that the words had sounded like light teasing, they both knew it wasn't the joke he was trying to make it. The question hung heavy in the air and Yamato found himself unable to make a response although he knew he should have jerked away from Taichi's touch long ago. Governed by a more instinctual portion of his brain, Yamato's skin tingled as the Lord stroked along his cheek.

Taichi accepted his silence and kissed him.

It felt like goodbye...

Yamato kissed back, a traitorous part of his heart focusing only on the pleasure of the dance of lips and tongue. The rest of his heart and mind were poised motionless between anger and fear.

He won't help and he's feeling guilty. So much for him helping me get away from Yagami, then.

Passion begged him to give in, but he eventually broke away to hold Taichi at arm's length, the two darker emotions taking control. Taichi couldn't just kiss it all better.

"What's going to happen?"

Taichi smiled sadly and shook his head. "You'll see. You don't have to worry. I swear."

Taichi's meaningless repetition of platitudes pushed him away from fear and towards fury.

"Why? Because Yagami just wants to sit and have tea with me?" The scene was impossible to imagine. "More likely he'll sip a cup while swinging his whip and watching me writhe in pain."

"No. Yamato, it's not like..."

"_Don't_ tell me no!" He hated the careful calmness Taichi was fronting. There was nothing to be calm about. "It's true. He's a murdering bastard and you're better than him." Taichi flinched. "Better than _this!_" Yamato's hands moved to encompass the room, then dropped limply to his sides. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but I can tell that you're attempting to manipulate me. That's the one thing, above all else, that I can't forgive." He bit his lip. "I'll be honest with you, Taichi. I... I don't want to see Yagami again. I... don't want to handle it," he finished, uncomfortably close to admitting fear.

_So much for taking back control,_ he berated himself. But he knew, he _knew_ what Yagami was capable of. In his last audience, he'd almost been strangled to death. Whatever the bastard had planned for this session, Yamato doubted that it would be as quick or painless. He stared into the Lord's eyes.

Please, Taichi. Help me.

It worked, but only a little. With the neutrality gone, Taichi instead looked weary and subdued. "He... This meeting... It's only --"

Not enough.

"Only what?" Yamato cut him off. "He's going to let me go? Because _that's_ the only thing I want to hear from you."

Taichi's face hardened with resolve. "I'm doing what I can. But you will need to meet with him."

"No." Yamato glared, with enough force to make up for his lack in height.

"You don't have a choice, Yamato. Please, he's really not as bad as you think," Taichi said, reaching for Yamato's hand.

Yamato jerked it away, unable to believe how brainwashed Taichi was. The fool just kept on defending his master.

I'll just have to re-educate him.

"He's not so bad? Then I guess you don't care that Yagami tortures children to death?"

"Lies."

Slaves died all the time -- murder, torture, overwork... Yamato didn't like it, but children being hurt had always produced a stronger reaction in him. It was easier to work up the righteous fury.

"Fact. You want a name? Iori. A slave boy in my father's fortress."

"What? Who's that?" Taichi's face went white. "No," he said, but he didn't look certain.

Yamato felt a burst of satisfaction. It was strange that one name had such an effect but at least it had gotten his attention. It was a stronger reaction than Yamato had hoped. Maybe Iori's death would be something more than a sad tally-mark in a record of Masaharu's slaves. Or maybe... Taichi had known.

He rose and took a menacing step closer to Taichi, expecting the man to hold his ground, but instead the other backed away to the wall. "Do you know how your master acquired me? Yagami got the chance to demonstrate his 'skills' on a little slave boy before my bastard of a father would agree to sell me to him."

Taichi looked down, face empty of surprise. The guilt that was there struck Yamato with the strength of betrayal.

He already knows... and he still follows Yagami willingly?!

Taichi was as bad as his master. No matter that Masaharu and Yamato himself were also responsible for the boy's death.

"The child's _dead_," he said sharply, hoping to pain Taichi into accepting the truth. "An innocent little boy -- dead because of Yagami. Your Lord is a monster. And if you try to tell me otherwise... You are too."

The words had the desired effect. Any remaining color in Taichi's face drained away as he shook his head in denial, eyes wide and pained. "No. No, that can't be true. He was _alive_... I..." his voice trailed off helplessly.

"It _is_ true, Taichi. Why would I lie?"

"Because..." He shook his head in distress, raking fingers through disarrayed brown strands. "You're..." The Lord was dangerously close to tears. "Damn," he said through clenched teeth. "You're just trying to get free. Using whatever emotional tactics you can to get to me -- seduction last night, guilt now."

Yamato felt disinclined to mention that last night hadn't been entirely about getting free... or at least not in the sense Taichi meant.

"_Kami-sama_," Taichi continued, swearing softly under his breath. "How is it that I have this all planned out before I see you and yet I'm still..."

_So His Highness_ is _trying to manipulate me._

Yamato hated feeling naïve and stupid.

"...Still a _coward_," Yamato finished for him. He couldn't back down. This was his honor and self-respect on the line. "It may take me a while, but I am a person who can tell when he's being lied to. I don't know what your mission is in talking to me, but I do know some part of you cares about me. If you were honest with yourself, you'd help me escape, and you know it. That's why you can't talk to me properly."

Taichi had slumped into the remaining chair, head bowed and eyes averted from Yamato's direction.

"Why do you choose to follow a monster?" Yamato asked again, this time softly, with the full intention of listening to Taichi's answer.

Taichi twitched, coming back to himself. He stood and headed for the door. "Yagami can't be a monster. That's all there is to it."

And... they were back to square one. Yamato sprang from the chair, growling, and caught hold of Taichi's arm. He used the limb and the surprise of his sudden movement to shove the Lord against the wall.

"He was alive," Yamato continued, "for precisely the amount of time it took him to regain consciousness. Then he was terminated."

"So Yagami didn't kill the boy," Taichi said, a little of his ghost-like pallor fading. His obvious relief was nauseating.

"You make me sick," Yamato hissed. "Just because Yagami didn't deal the final blow it's all okay? Never mind that thanks to your precious Yagami, the boy's last few hours of life were filled with pain? Why the hell do you keep defending that bastard's humanity?"

Taichi broke free and didn't stop until he reached the door. He stood there, hands clenched tightly into fists at his side, his face expressionless once more.

"I'm sorry," he said. "This isn't going the way I'd planned at all."

"Why, because I actually think for myself?"

Taichi took a controlled breath. "Believe what you want, but you have nothing to fear. I'm going to leave you here, then in a little while, that door will open and you'll talk with Yagami. He'll explain things to you since I haven't been able to."

Perfect. Exactly who I've been wanting to see.

He hadn't wanted to trust the unknown Lord's men, but Taichi left him no choice. "So Yagami's receiving chamber is right through these doors?"

Taichi nodded. "It'll be okay. Just wait to see him." He left with a bittersweet smile and wave.

Yamato smiled as well, but it had nothing to do with Taichi.

"Oh, I'll wait, all right," he said to the empty room.

He had a pretty good idea of what Yagami would be explaining and he had no desire to be around long enough for things to get painful. The group had to have some way of breaching the fortress' defenses, so if they homed in on his present location instead of the throne room, one flimsy little door shouldn't negatively affect the attack. Yamato didn't trust them to help him directly, but he trusted that they'd take care of Yagami if given the chance. That alone would benefit Yamato.

He'd had enough of dealing with Taichi's lies and Yagami's threats.

A smile was on his face as he bit down on the transmitter, sending the signal.

He hoped the whole fortress burned to the ground.

* * *

Channeling so much power continuously was a strain. Salamon never before had to perform a full healing. If Gennai were a wounded human, he would've long since been dead... but because whatever illness that was attacking Gennai was doing so in a slow manner, she was able to make steady progress.

The first and most difficult portion of the healing had been Gennai's face. It had rejuvenated much slower than his little finger had, but eventually, the delicate facial skin became pink and smoothed of the deep wrinkles that had creased it. His hair changed from dull white to a silky brown, and as she blew the healing fog over his chest, his breathing grew less strained. With a bit of attention paid to his arms, Salamon had succeeded in healing her old companion from the waist up.

Although satisfied with her progress, she was out of breath from breathing the fog and an angry headache pounded inside her skull. She knew she was pushing herself past her limit, but with her untrained mind, the stress and the reservoir of energy that had been contained for far too long wouldn't allow her to stop. The power surged and she felt herself changing. She tried to pull it back, but she... couldn't... stop...

White light blossomed around her and she had just enough presence of mind to leap off the bed before it collapsed under her increasing weight. Hikari, her brave little Chosen who had watched the healing with quiet fascination, stepped forward. Unable to hold back the transformation any longer, Salamon hoped Hikari would have the sense to back away. The power she'd taken from the blond man surged in her, unwilling to patiently await its use in healing. Strength poured through her -- limbs lengthened, her whole body tingled as it grew to nearly ten times its original size. The harness encircling her shredded. Wings with feathers of dark gray sprouted from her back. The tips of her ears brushed the ceiling.

It was strange... to feel this much power and to still have a four-legged form. She lifted her massive white paw and unsheathed silver claws. Claws had destroyed Jeri's flesh. What did it matter that they had not been hers? The feathers, dark and tainted, didn't lie. Her body proved her guilt. No longer Angewomon, Nefertimon keened in pain. For her failure, an angel had been turned into a beast.

Hikari was flattened against the far wall, a look of terror on her face that was not unlike what had been on the naked man's face.

She tried to step toward her Chosen, but her legs trembled. The power in her was still too much. She'd held it for too long. The transformation, even without the aid of her Chosen or a digivice, hadn't used enough energy. Power still strained to be unleashed.

She searched inside herself, finding several attacks open to her, but there was nothing in the room that wouldn't be missed if it were destroyed. And, never having used the attacks before, she wasn't certain what the results would be. But one path tugged on her and a piece of her soul whispered: _Ask me no riddles, I'll tell you no lies._ Words became a conduit of power.

"SPHINXSONG OF TRUTH!"

A spherical burble of sound and light burst around her and filled the room. The force of it staggered Hikari and Gennai, but it passed through them, leaving the two unscathed. The light and sound leached into the walls, then was gone. After a few moments, shouts could be heard outside the room, but inside silence reigned.

Nefertimon could move now and she took a step closer to her Chosen. "Are you harmed, Hikari?" Feline digimon and girl both blinked in surprise. It hadn't even occurred to her to try speaking to the naked man. Nor had she given this form any other attention, instead, focusing on transforming back to Salamon as quickly as possible. She could speak in this body! It had been years since she had heard her own voice. She spoke again. She needed to know that her Chosen was safe. "Are you okay?"

"I - I'm... scared," the girl said, as if the words had to be dragged from her.

Nefertimon knew she shouldn't feel hurt. The girl's unease over her smaller form was sufficiently shocking enough to warrant panic and adding this larger form on top could only have one expected result. But still, it hurt.

"You don't have to be frightened." She tried to sound reassuring, but it was difficult when her voice boomed with each word. She tried again, softer. "You are my Chosen and it is my duty to protect you."

Hikari cocked her head to the side, considering, and took a step away from the wall. "Chosen for what?"

To die, like Jeri.

But she couldn't say that, so she batted the memories away and offered the kinder truth. "Chosen to help save the world."

Hikari's head jerked upwards to look at her and curiosity chased the last of the fear from her expression. A moan came from the bed and the girl's hazel eyes tracked over to the injured form. "What about him?"

Nefertimon looked down at the humanoid digimon. "He is Gennai, an old friend and mentor."

He was stirring more now and they watched his eyes open, blinking against the light. He looked in Nefertimon's direction and she felt his gaze rake over her darkened wings. The disdain she saw twisting his face made her feel sick. With effort, he shifted to a more upright and defensive position.

"Who are you?" he rasped. "Do I know you? Where am I?"

She bowed her head. "I am Nefertimon, evolved from Salamon, once-guardian of Jeri and, now, protector of Hikari. This place is the fortress of Yagami. No one here will harm you."

Sadness blossomed in his eyes as recognition and understanding came. The pity hurt more than the loathing. "You guard this girl?" he asked gently.

"Yes. And there are three others like her here in the safety of the fortress. They do not have partners."

"Four Chosen in one place?" Shock paused him only briefly before he spoke with determination. "Then we must hurry. I do not know how long I have been under this illness. Myotismon is plotting again. If the Chosen are truly gathering without assistance, the circumstances must be dire. Who are the other three? Do they hold any power or influence that can help us?"

The blond man. Koushiro. Taichi.

"There is a stranger, kept like a prisoner. He arrived only recently. I do not know him."

Hikari raised her hand and Nefertimon paused in her report. "Um, his name is Yamato. My brother says he's a good man. I think they're um... Taichi might be biased."

Gennai nodded to her in thanks, then raised a discrete eyebrow at Nefertimon.

"Hikari's elder brother, Taichi, is Chosen. He's also the Lord in charge of the Yagami fortress and lands."

"A Lord?" Gennai asked, the same instant Hikari asked, "A Chosen?"

Nefertimon nodded. "He is both a good man and leader. We can trust his judgement."

Gennai's eyes darkened. Nefertimon couldn't blame him. The Lords had caused her older group of Chosen trouble in the past. The man heaved a sigh, then winced and wrapped one arm about his ribs.

"The last?" he inquired.

"His name is Koushiro. He works well with computers and is familiar with the more antique technologies."

"Koushiro too?!" Hikari interposed herself between them. "What's going on?" she demanded with a stomp of her foot.

Gennai looked at Hikari then pinned Nefertimon with a disapproving glare. "The girl's life is in danger and you have told her nothing?"

Pointed ears flattened back in annoyance. "There hasn't been an opportunity before. Something here is blocking my telepathy. I haven't had a voice to do any explaining with."

Gennai frowned, but it was more in contemplation than in disapproval. Then his expression became grave as he turned his gaze to Hikari. "For more than two hundred years, the Chosen and their digimon partners have been fighting a losing battle against Myotismon and his Dark Masters." He waved off her question when she tried to speak. "It is better to tell the story once rather than four separate times."

His shaky arm reached out and captured one of Hikari's hands. She flinched at his touch, but let him draw her closer.

"Lady, will you trust us and allow us to explain once the four of you are gathered?"

Hikari stood there, looking as if she'd like to have her hand back to herself, but Gennai wasn't letting go and Nefertimon knew Hikari was too polite and caring to be anything but gentle with a recovering patient. Instead, the girl brushed her other hand against the fur at Nefertimon's chest, tangling her fingers in the long strands.

"You're really Miko?"

Nefertimon leaned into the touch. "Yes, Hikari, I am. And I would give my life before I'd let you come to harm," she told her Chosen solemnly. "The spell I cast prevents lies from being told. I cannot lie to you." Seeing the girl's skeptical glance, she offered, "If you doubt me, try lying."

Gennai raised an eyebrow and let Hikari's hand go. He settled back against the pillows and waited expectantly.

Nefertimon watched with growing amusement as Hikari was quiet, her brow furrowed in thought. She knew that the girl was having difficulty finding something to lie about since she normally was honest to a fault. "My name is K-K-Hikari," her Chosen finally said, stumbling over the name with a look of surprise.

"You're _magic_, Miko," she said softly, staring up in wonder. Nefertimon felt the girl's arms wrap about one of her forelegs. "And I still love you, no matter what you look like."

The girl's pure emotions were too much.

Magic? I'm a monster who let everyone I loved be destroyed. I'm horrible.

Hikari hugged her tighter. "You're wonderful. Promise you'll stay with me forever?"

Nefertimon couldn't say anything immediately. Her throat was painfully tight. With her body so big in a room so small, there wasn't much she could do in the way of reassuring touches, but she returned the embrace as best she could and one monstrous white paw briefly rested on the girl's shoulder. "I promise, child."

Nefertimon could just imagine the teen's eyes flashing in annoyance for the appellation, but Hikari would never be old enough for the war she would be forced to fight.

It was Gennai who spoke, though, filling the quiet. "You have bonded with a fine Chosen, Nefertimon. You will be good for each other." He gave a pained cough. "But now I need to reiterate our need to inform the Chosen of the current situation. Every moment is precious. It's a miracle you're all still alive."

Hikari pulled back, her worried expression returning as she focused on Gennai.

"Nefertimon," Gennai continued, "If you would revert to Salamon we'd have an easier time navigating around."

She smiled at the thought of what the other residents of the fortress would say to seeing a giant feline roaming the halls. But she wouldn't be able to roam very far in this form. She would have to change back if she was to fit through the narrower corridors. Nefertimon tried centering herself -- tried to recapture the feeling that she had when she'd been Angewomon and returning to her smaller form. But each safe place she sought in her mind clamored with energy. The peace she searched for jittered and shimmied away. She shook her head.

"I can't. I don't know how any more. I took in a lot of power in order to heal you." She couldn't bring herself to say how or where she got the power from. But seeing him glance at her wings again, she suspected Gennai knew. "I can't control it. I'm afraid I'll hurt you on accident." She hadn't meant to say that. "When is this truth spell going to wear off?" she growled softly.

Gennai gave her a kindly smile, but worry tinged his eyes. "The spell should collapse once you are in your smaller form. It takes a very powerful mind and a lot of skill to maintain spells past a transformation. So let's concentrate on getting you back to Salamon, shall we?"

Nefertimon nodded and settled back on her haunches.

Hikari was petting her as best as she could reach and Nefertimon felt fingers fall upon her darkened wings. "They're so soft," the girl murmured, burying her face into them.

Gennai was quiet. He'd been there when Jeri died, when Angewomon had taken in the girl's blood as her duty insisted, when her wings had turned black. He understood her pain.

Hikari was oblivious, or perhaps not.

"Is this okay?" she asked, pausing her strokes. "Does it bother you if I touch them? It's just that they're so beautiful. Can I, please?"

Nefertimon closed her eyes and felt a warmth wrap around her heart. "It..." She couldn't lie. "It's all right. Go ahead." The chilling memories weren't gone, but a blanket of love protected her from them.

Hikari's touch upon her wings resumed, her strokes sure and gentle. Staying like that, Nefertimon let Gennai guide her through the meditation.

It was good to hear his voice again. His words swirled around her, soothing, straining out the harsh sounds coming from outside the sickroom. Hikari's presence at her side relaxed her further and as soon as she shrank, Salamon was immediately gathered up into her Chosen's arms and the girl pressed kisses into her fur.

"Well done, Salamon," Gennai said. She made a contented purr and burrowed deeper into her Chosen's embrace. The girl still loved her and Gennai was awake, if not fully healed.

Releasing her, Hikari helped the old digimon into a moving chair and with his permission, Salamon curled up in his lap. The relief of the moment lulled her to sleep and her last coherent thought, as Hikari pushed them along to presumably find Taichi, was that finally her powers were no longer a curse, but a blessing.

She awoke at the sound of an explosion.

* * *

_Okay, focus,_ Taichi told himself. _You need to convince him that you're Yagami before you reveal yourself as Taichi. Otherwise, he might just think you're playing dress-up._

Taichi sighed. Not that he wasn't playing dress-up already. He'd gone all-out for this confrontation with the truth, having donned both the mask and the full-body suit that went with it. At least if Yamato took the news badly and decided to express his displeasure violently, he'd be physically protected. If Yamato hated him, though, there was nothing that could protect his heart from that. Taichi hoped he hadn't waited too long to reveal his secret. The man's behavior in the waiting room had done nothing to reassure him on that point.

On the dais, Taichi pressed a hidden button and the door to Yamato's room slid open. He double-checked that the voice modifier was set correctly, then commanded, "Enter."

Yamato obeyed, looking much less nervous than his previous confrontation with Yagami. His steps were brisk, determined and he stopped a mere three paces from the dais.

"Why am I here?"

Taichi had anticipated that question and had formulated a response that revealed his own feelings as a reminder.

"Whether you mean in my fortress or in this room, the answer remains the same. You are here because Taichi loves you."

"Well, I hate him, so you can just keep on fucking him yourself."

Inside the mask, Taichi sighed. He'd guessed that Yamato would react that way, but he'd hoped he wouldn't. "That is not an option," he told the angry blond. "In the short time you've been here, he's forgotten his purpose. He was supposed to be helping you fit in. Instead of forcing you to obey, he's dealt with you softly, tried to befriend you. Unusual, don't you think?"

"It's only strange if you expect everyone to be a twisted fuck like you."

Taichi stood, his hand going for the whip at his side. It was the opening he needed. "Is it now?" he asked silkily.

There was a small table off to the side. On top of it rested a crystal vase containing a rose on a thin stem. Taichi took his mark and, with careful aim from years of practice, snapped the cusp so that blood red petals showered down upon the table top. A quick glance at Yamato showed that he was suitably impressed, the man's lips flattening to a thin line.

Taichi set the whip on the table and canted over the edge of the dais. He drew nearer to Yamato, but the blond did not back away. "You hate me very much, don't you," he said, reaching out a gloved hand to caress the man's cheek.

Yamato's eyes blazed and he held steady against 'Yagami's' touch. "If you ever take me to your bed, you won't wake up the following morning."

Fear. He's afraid, but fighting it. Another few pushes, to make him remember Taichi hasn't hurt him... If he hates me...

"Your words are very bold for someone in your position. You seem hardly trained at all. Should I punish Taichi for being too soft with you? Would you like that?"

"What?"

A knot in Taichi's stomach eased as Yamato became noticeably alarmed at the suggestion.

"You are obviously not trained as a proper slave after all this time. But the fault is not yours alone. I'm asking you: Will you accept the punishment for your failure, or would you like Taichi to receive it since he is equally to blame?"

"Leave him out of this." Then he smirked. "If you want to blame someone, blame yourself. He's your protégé, right? If he can't sufficiently break me to your standards, that reflects badly on _your_ training of him, now doesn't it?"

Behind the mask, Taichi smiled. "So you wish to spare him. Why? You don't hate him, yet you do. You want to protect him, yet you don't trust his words. Which is it, Yamato?"

The slip was deliberate, a test. Yamato didn't disappoint. Blue eyes widened. "My name..."

Why did you beg me, Yamato? Was it all in the desire to escape? To protect yourself? Were those the only reasons?

"You begged him, Yamato. You needed him to fuck you last night. I want to know why."

Yamato stiffened. "That's none of your business, Yagami."

"Oh, but it is. I know everything that Taichi does." He brushed a gloved fingertip over Yamato's shoulder, faultlessly tracing the purplish mark hidden beneath the fabric. Yamato was sensitive there, Taichi had discovered, and now he made it appear to Yamato that Yagami knew as well. Pale cheeks colored prettily, just as he'd hoped. "Everything," Taichi repeated. "He is my business. And so are you."

Before Yamato could respond, a distant rumble demanded their attention.

The noise grew and a lacework wall of light arcing from ceiling to floor raced toward them. It passed through Taichi's body with a burning tingle. Seeing the thing coming had given him time to brace himself, but Yamato stumbled sideways with the force and Taichi grabbed his arm to steady him. A cacophony of murmuring voices filled the air, but soon the sound receded along with the glow. _An energy pulse, maybe?_ But Koushiro would have alerted him of any attack. Taichi glanced around. The building's structure didn't seem to be damaged and _he_ felt fine.

"Are you okay?" Taichi asked. Yamato was shaking slightly.

The blond straightened. "I'm --" Distaste chased away the vulnerable expression and he jerked his arm out of Taichi's grip. "I don't see why you should care," he said tartly. "What was that? A pathetic attempt to make me cling to you?"

Taichi wasn't about to let their conversation get sidetracked. "I have no need to scare you into my arms. I do not know what that was, and I intend to find that out as soon as you answer my question. Why did you seduce Taichi last night?"

"What does it matter?"

_I need to know..._ But he couldn't tell Yamato that.

"I need to know." The words had slipped out. He shook his head, focusing. He had to know. Before anything else happened. "Did you want to escape? Did you think to cloud his mind with lust such that he'd do anything for you?"

"I did it because I wanted him!" Yamato's hands flew to cover his mouth. "No! I h--" While his hands slipped downwards to scrabble at his neck, his mouth worked soundlessly. Before Taichi could intervene, Yamato recovered and his face twisted with rage. "_You!_ What did you do to me?"

"Nothing, recently," he said, relieved that at least Yamato wasn't choking.

"Well, you've done _something_ to me," the man snarled. "I can't say what I want. I --" More silent words. His eyes narrowed. "Was there some sort of truth serum slipped into that food? Did you drug me?"

"No." Taichi had prepared it himself, not wanting to trouble the kitchen staff.

"And how do I know you're telling the truth?"

Unlike previous interactions with Yamato, the track of conversation was a tangible, controllable object. Taichi was back in his element. The words flowed into his mind. _Because as much trouble as you've caused me, I'd sooner kill you than bother with lying._

It was the sort of thing Yagami would say, so Taichi went with it. "Because --" His throat worked without effect.

_Oh, that's weird._ The words wouldn't come. He stood gaping like a fish until he finally accepted that he couldn't speak and shut his mouth. Thankfully, the event had been covered by the mask. "What the hell?" _Well, that came out just fine... Just like Yamato..._ 'Truth serum,' Yamato had said. _...He'd tried to say something that wasn't true. The light, maybe? Whatever it is... we can't say things we know to be false? ...This should be interesting._

Taichi spoke the truth. "If I was going to drug you, I would have done so a long time ago."

"I'm not saying anything more until this wears off," Yamato said with a glare.

Taichi tongued the switch for a short laugh. "What are you afraid of saying?"

Yamato's eyes dropped to the carpet.

Now? Might as well...

Taichi went back onto the dais and retrieved the album from behind the throne. With admirable feigned aloofness, Yamato didn't follow his actions, but the man tensed at Taichi's return.

"Here." He thrust the album at Yamato. "If you're going to stare at something, it might as well be interesting."

Frozen blue eyes flickered in recognition. It was the same album from his father's dusty room that Yamato had tried peeking at before.

Taichi received a hard look, but finally Yamato took the album from him and flipped it open to the center. While Yamato was busy, Taichi took the time to contact Koushiro. He didn't really want to watch Yamato look at the pictures... for if, by chance, Taichi glimpsed the old family photos of happier times... He needed to touch-base with his friend.

"Koushiro?"

The genius responded instantly. "Yes, Taichi? Things going well with Yamato?"

"I suppose. Look, there was a strange energy flash a few minutes ago. I think it somehow affected our ability to tell lies."

"Heh, you're definitely in trouble with Yamato, then." When Taichi didn't allow this to provoke a response, Koushiro continued. "Hmm... I didn't detect anything here, but several guards reported seeing something similar. Aside from a few minor arguments starting, nothing else is out of the ordinary. I doubt whatever you saw was an attack. None of the security systems are affected."

"Well, do me a favor. Try lying."

"The square root of 222 is 16."

"..."

A sigh came over the comm line. "Taichi?"

"Uh, _is_ the square root of 222, sixteen?"

To his credit, Koushiro remained polite. "No, Taichi."

"So you can lie?" He was expecting a simple , if perhaps scathing, 'yes,' but instead...

"Well, I'm working on a current theory in which there are several planes of existence within our universe. Events that happen in one plane may not occur in another. So it is possible, that even if I were to say something factually incorrect to our point of view, it may indeed be accurate elsewhere. This would cause a state in which _everything is true_. However, now that I think about it, it would be inconceivable for the laws of mathematics to change, regardless of other differences or factors."

"Huh? In a vocabulary I can understand, Koushiro, please?"

"For this present question: yes, I am able to tell falsehoods."

Taichi smiled in spite of himself, because simply saying 'yes, I can lie' was too easy for the genius. "Great. Thanks for that. If you find out what caused that flash a few minutes back, let me know."

"That's what I had been doing until you interrupted me."

There was a burst of static, then nothing. "Koushiro?" Still silence. "Ugh. That touchy nerd has no social niceties," he muttered into the privacy of the mask, before reminding himself that he had Yamato to deal with.

The man's eyes were cast down at a picture of the three of them. As if Yamato could feel the weight of Taichi's regard, the blond looked up, hand still poised over the page.

"What is this supposed to be?"

"It's a family picture album, Yamato. My family. A father and his two children."

Yamato's finger stroked the surface of the photo. "The boy looks like a younger version of your protégé and Taichi told me he had a sister. Your son is supposed to be dead, Yagami."

"You have questions, I realize," he said, putting a hand on Yamato's shoulder. The blond flinched away, but he didn't move very far. Taichi let him go. "I'll answer your questions, if you'll answer mine."

"Why should I trust you?"

"Do you want answers or not?"

Yamato made a vague shrug. "There's not much I can tell you."

"It'll be enough."

He felt a bit strange, casting aside his prepared words in order to ask direct questions that he'd only hedged at in his notes... but wasn't it for the best? He'd not wanted to drug Yamato into telling him the truth, preferring instead to win his trust as Taichi.

The truth-inducing effect was definitely on the creepy side, but Koushiro was checking into it and it was a gift he could use -- a pain-free way of seeing into Yamato's heart. And if the man refused to speak, it was just as good as an answer. It was a perfect, simple solution to his problem. Wasn't it?

Taichi removed the album from Yamato's hands and placed it on the dais, then turned back to face the man he'd purchased for a heavy price. "Why are you here, Yamato?" He held up a gloved hand to forestall the insolent words building. "Just the truth, as best as you know."

"My father didn't like the man that I've become. He wanted to be rid of me."

"Are you spying on me or this fortress?"

"No," Yamato answered with a roll of his eyes.

"Have you ever attempted, or will you ever deliberately try to injure a person under the protection of this fortress."

"I wouldn't mind it if you, the Slavemaster, or the red-head were harmed, but I have no quarrel with the common inhabitants here."

"And Taichi?"

"Taichi is a special case." His face darkened. "Look, can we cut through this touchy-feeley crap? What the hell are you trying to do with me?"

"One last question, please."

"Can I stop you?" Yamato huffed.

Taichi paused. "Perhaps." Another pause. "Yes. I will not harm you if you refuse to speak."

"Really?"

"I can't lie either, remember?"

"So you say." Yamato rolled his eyes and waved a white hand with mock grandeur. "Carry on."

Taichi took a moment to switch from the Yagami voice to his own, and adjusted the volume so that it projected softly.

"What do you want?"

In the empty moment that followed, Taichi returned to the louder, deeper voice. It took that long for Yamato to react, bridging the distance to Taichi as he moved.

"Who are you? What's got you dropping the sadistic Lordship routine?" The blond's fingers clenched into Taichi's arm. Without the suit, they would have been bruising. "Is this another one of your tricks, another way to hurt me?"

With care, Taichi removed Yamato's hand from the shoulder of his cloak. "Nothing of the sort, although I'm gratified to hear that you've noticed the change in persona. I won't promise that I'll carry out your desires, but if you tell them to me, I vow not to use them against you in any way."

"I --" Yamato's words choked off and Taichi was subjected to an evil glare. "Bastard."

"You don't have to speak. I will not force you. But I'm offering you a chance to tell me of your preferences. It's hard to ignore that you yearn for your freedom, yet I wonder where it is that you wish to be." A pause to adjust the helmet's settings, then softer, "Where is it that you want to rest your head, Yamato? What do you want?"

Yamato resumed his gaze at the carpet and just before Taichi gave up, he spoke, his voice holding a matching softness that warmed Taichi's heart.

"I don't know what I want, really, aside from the freedom that you've already mentioned. There's nothing for me at home; although, I worry about my brother, wonder about him. I want a quiet place to live -- somewhere that doesn't necessitate a struggle to get through daily life." He looked up, as if seeing through the reflective lenses of the mask and into Taichi's eyes. "I want a peaceful existence, without people hurting."

Taichi swallowed, unable to speak... this time for a completely different reason.

"Is that it?" the blond inquired.

_No,_ Taichi thought. _Do you love me?_

"Yes," he said finally. _But..._ Taichi forced himself to continue and encountered no more difficulty than usually was present in lying. "Thank you. That's all I wanted to know." He could lie. As long as Yamato also didn't try to tell a lie, the man might never even know that the wave's effects had worn off.

It would be so simple to ask him... to learn the answer whether by Yamato's words or his silence.

No, Yamato deserved to answer honestly of his own free will. After all Taichi had put him through, and all the anguish Yamato had endured, Taichi owed it to him.

Yamato straightened. "My questions now. What's going on?"

Taichi nodded his acceptance and began speaking. "Four years ago, a Lord disappeared. Rather than let his empire go to ruin and be destroyed by his enemies, another took his place and prevented the world from learning of his disappearance."

Taichi's faith in Yamato's intelligence was not misplaced. The blond grabbed hold of his robes again. "Who are you?"

Taichi let his own voice sound. "I told you when we first met that I was there to help you fit in here. That's the most truth I could give you back then. The full truth is that I... bonded ... with you... years ago. I know you don't remember me, but the past few weeks haven't done anything to my feelings, save for making them stronger. You have a sharp mind, a caring heart, you stand up for what you believe in. I love you, Yamato. Taichi loves you."

Yamato's fingers unclenched and he stepped back, head shaking in disbelief. "Get away from me."

Taichi didn't follow, but he continued to beg. "Yamato, please try to understand. That album -- that's me, my sister, and my father. We're good people, playing a very dangerous acting game. I wanted to tell you. I've been _trying_ to tell you. But we had to be sure you wouldn't betray us first."

Yamato laughed at that, sounding more than slightly crazed. "And you're sure now?"

"No, but I don't want to lie to you anymore. You deserve the truth. I'm sor____."

An explosion overpowered the rest of the word.

Even through his helmet, the blast was near-deafening. Yamato's ears had to be ringing. Smoke and debris spilled into the room from one of the side walls. He steered Yamato to the opposite wall and forced him down. "Cover your head!"

Yamato glared at him. "Let go of me, you sick fuck!"

Of course, hating me takes precedence over protecting his own neck.

Taichi roughly moved Yamato's arms for him, then spun to survey the damage. Thick smoke filled most of the room, limiting his visibility. Behind him, Yamato began coughing. Taichi, grateful for the air filter on the mask, felt for Yamato's shoulder and shoved him down to the floor where the air would be clearer. He heard Yamato growl something again, but ignored it, his mind staying focused on analyzing the threat.

With a wall being down and there being more smoke than dust in the air, there had to be a fire someplace nearby. Mentally, Taichi spun the room around, trying to figure out where the hole in the wall led... a guest room, and then... _outside_.

He tongued the comm switch. "Koushiro! We're under attack here! What's going on?" Silence. "Koushiro! You there? Come on, buddy, answer me!" Nothing.

Dammit! How long have we been out of contact?

It had to be an attack. He hoped Koushiro was all right, but it was a brief thought. Human voices were wafting closer through the billowing smoke. He needed a weapon... the whip was on the table on the dais -- too far away to reach... the rest of the room was purposefully bare, in case Yamato had tried to harm Taichi or himself. He'd left the weapons his suit concealed behind for the same reason.

We need to get out of here.

There was a secure room in his chambers. If they could get to it...

He grabbed Yamato by the elbow and hauled him toward the door. When they had nearly reached it, Yamato pulled away.

"Who _are_ you?"

Taichi didn't dare remove his helmet, not with a threat so close, but he pushed up the sleeve of one arm, keyed in the unlocking code, and folded back the top of his glove. The synthflesh of the suit parted and the dark scratches on his inner wrist was revealed -- the first syllable of Yamato's name marked in dried blood.

"No." Yamato took a step away. "You can't be him."

He locked the suit back in place. "Yamato..." Taichi reached out to just carry the stubborn man. They had to get out of there.

It was too late.

"Freeze, or we'll shoot."

Taichi stilled. He had the benefit of body armor built into the Yagami suit, but Yamato's clothes offered no such protection. He turned to face the invaders, shielding Yamato in the process, but the arrogant blond stepped to the side, away from his cover.

There were five men -- each carrying enough weaponry to stop an entire squadron of guards. Two of them he recognized as men he had purchased. They were good men... had been good... _Damn._ Yet the thought lacked emphasis. Taichi had known it was only a matter of time before the fortress was infiltrated by enemies posing as slaves. _But why now, of all times? Gods, I was so close to finally getting through to him!_

He held his arms out to his sides, hands raised, and stepped again between Yamato and the men.

"What do you want?"

One of the men he recognized lowered his weapon and performed an elaborate, mocking bow. "Our Lord requests your company at our earliest convenience. That would be now and we should be going before your guards arrive. A bleeding-heart like you wouldn't want any more deaths than necessary, now would you?"

Taichi looked back at Yamato. The man's face, once more, was unreadable. At least he was staying in a protected position. He faced his kidnappers then tongued the comm switch. "Koushiro... Anyone?"

"Start moving. Our Lord requested you alive. He didn't give any instructions as to your condition."

Taichi's flicked off the comm. Listening to static wasn't helping him keep calm. The way he figured, he had three options. One: Try and make a run for it. Two: Try and stall and hope help arrived soon. Three: Go with them and hope for a rescue.

"Tick-tock, your Lordship. Your transport awaits."

Taichi hesitated.

The man shrugged. "Execute extraction plan Epsilon."

The squad advanced.

"Wait." He needed time to think. "Whatever you're getting paid, I'll triple it."

The leader shook his head. "No waiting, no negotiating, no stalling for security to find us. Move now or begin bleeding."

Yamato... It's my fault he's in this mess.

Taichi strode forward. "All right. I'll come." He angled his head at the blond who was remaining admirably calm. Yamato was probably realizing that the less attention he called to himself, the longer he would stay alive. Taichi didn't have that luxury, but he could make sure that Yamato remained safe. "He stays, unharmed, or I'll set my mask to self-destruct."

Taichi had no intention of carrying through with his threat. The tongued code was complex and he'd never bothered to learn more than the first five commands so he wouldn't inadvertently trigger the procedure, but that didn't matter. All he needed was for the leader to believe his bluff.

"He's lying," the closest invader said. The leader glared at him for speaking out of turn.

"Maybe so," Taichi answered. "But then again... there's also the chance that I'm not. I don't like sharing what is mine. Either he stays here, or none of us leave this room."

"Fine." The leader, Taichi was certain now that he was one of the men Taichi had bought, shrugged, then said to Yamato, "Sorry, kid, but you're on your own."

The other man Taichi recognized smiled at the blond. "Don't worry too much. I've seen enough as a guard to know that the rest of the saps who run this place will make sure you're well-treated."

Taichi nearly groaned at the threat that knowledge implied. Here he and Koushiro had been worrying about what Yamato might do if he learned the truth, and already his enemies knew.

While he was distracted by watching Yamato, two men came and grabbed his arms. Since it appeared Yamato would be left alone, Taichi didn't struggle when they pulled him along.

Over his shoulder, he could see that Yamato looked pissed, fists clenched at his sides.

He switched from Yagami's voice to his own, increasing the volume to counteract distance and distraction. "It's not your fault." Yamato's expression didn't change.

The leader's fist knocked against the side of Taichi's mask. He leaned in conspiratorially. "Hmm... thinking he's upset at us taking you, your Lordship? Think again. It _is_ his fault. He's the one who led us right to you."

Taichi didn't want to believe it. It would have been easy for the man to lie, but he looked back at Yamato one last time and knew it was true. Tears streaked paths down his explosion-grimed cheeks, but the blue eyes were filled with hate.

He knows. He knows I'm me and he's letting them take me. He hates me.

Yamato darted forward suddenly, heedless of the danger, and Taichi's heart leapt in fear and hope.

The leader smirked and motioned for the men not to shoot. "Make your goodbye short and sweet, boy."

Yamato leaned close to Taichi and his tone was quiet, softly spoken for only they two to hear. It made his rage, the words, cut all the deeper. "You. Sick. Lying. Bastard. You deserve everything that's about to happen to you." He drew away, then spoke an ancient, damning oath loud enough for all to hear. "May the ghosts of your ancestors help you, for no one else will."

The man at his left knocked him roughly in the ribs, grinning. "Pissed him off, did you?"

Taichi slumped in his captors' grips, missing the glare the other man he recognized directed at his assaulter. He didn't have the strength to keep himself upright. Like good underlings, they hauled him along.

He knew he should be furious with Yamato, but all he felt was guilt. His lies had brought them to this. If he had simply forced Yamato to see the truth... even a day earlier...

If _he_ had simply told the truth...

His arms were bound behind his back and Taichi let himself be herded into the helicopter hovering outside the destroyed exterior wall. He made no effort to escape. The suit enhanced his strength and could safeguard him from several direct shots, but with so many enemies around him and no help in sight, it was pointless.

Yamato hated him, so it was pointless. Koushiro wasn't answering, so it was pointless. Hikari... Hikari would be all alone. The people he was supposed to protect... He had failed. And now everyone would suffer for his mistakes.

I'm sorry, everyone. This is all my fault.


	6. Rescuing

Feeling her spirit want to crawl out of her skin and fly to where Taichi was, Hikari tapped in the override code that would speed the elevator's ascent. Not only did she have to inform her brother of Miko's... _Salamon's_, she corrected herself... dual nature, but a very large explosion had rocked the fortress. She hoped Koushiro and the main security force were taking care of it, but she didn't have time to spare in finding a relay terminal and sending a message. Besides, if there was a threat, Taichi's level would be the safest place to wait out an attack. He would want her there.  
  
The elevator finally stopped and Hikari entered her pass-code again, opening the heavy doors. She pushed the hovering chair containing Gennai -- the old man had been partially healed from an indeterminate illness by her _cat_ \-- as quickly as possible down the halls without jarring him. Hikari still wasn't quite sure what was going on, but despite the shock of seeing Miko transform into a giant sphinx decked out in Ancient Egyptian trappings, she was comforted by having her long-time friend pacing beside her, ears perked sharply and bearing eyes that held even more intellect than usual. Once she found Taichi, their questions would be answered, or so the old man had promised.  
  
It didn't take long to determine Taichi wasn't in his chambers. Nervous because her brother wasn't answering her hollers, she left Gennai's hover chair there and set off with Salamon matching her sprinting pace. Coming around the next corner, they nearly ran over a blond man. He immediately backed away from them and eyed her with a mixture of stony wariness and a vague recognition that should have been impossible.  
  
Hikari was accustomed to staring matches with her brother, but holding one with a strange man felt ridiculous. Since he showed no inclination toward speaking, Hikari asked bluntly, "Have you seen Taichi?"  
  
"Are you his sister?" She nodded cautiously. His expression changed to something that might have been pity before hardening again. "Then I suggest you get out of my way, and then get out of here yourself."  
  
He moved as if to brush past her, but instead, he quickly scrambled back a half-dozen steps. His eyes had dropped to Salamon and his jaw muscles flexed suspiciously. Hikari recalled Taichi telling her that his guest, Yamato, was afraid of Miko. Now that she was thinking better, the man had to be Yamato. Unless her brother was for some reason hiding away even more men without telling her... The thought was disturbing.  
  
"Out of my way," the blond gritted through his teeth.  
  
Her temper flashing at the rudeness, Hikari wondered how her brother could like the man. But Taichi liking him or not, she wanted answers. "Tell me where my brother is, or else I'll ask her to attack."  
  
Yamato stiffened and the look he gave her was unreadable. "He's gone."  
  
"Gone? What do you mean? Gone where?"  
  
He shook his head. "Who knows? Probably gone for good, and good riddance to him."  
  
Miko... Salamon... paced forward without Hikari having to say anything. In a blink, the feline raced past him, effectively trapping the blond between them.  
  
Hikari advanced. "What happened to Taichi?"  
  
He gave a nervous glance behind him, then met her wrath with silence.  
  
She stepped closer still. "He may love you," she hissed, "But I will smack you if you've hurt him in any way."  
  
Almost imperceptibly, his blue eyes widened. Another staring match began, only to be broken by a familiar voice yelling for Taichi.  
  
"Koushiro!" Hikari called back. "Over here! Something's wrong."  
  
Koushiro was beside her in seconds. He held a weapon raised and ready, and he lost no time in pointing it at Yamato.  
  
"_You._"  
  
Hikari shivered at the hate pouring out of the normally soft-spoken mouth.  
  
The blond man turned to flee, but Salamon yowled her presence and Yamato faced them once more.  
  
"You," Yamato returned crisply, addressing Koushiro with a mocking smirk. "The little-man."  
  
Her brother's best friend was shaking all over, and Hikari doubted the oozing gash above his left eye was the only reason. She had to do something. The two men were utterly useless and would probably continue to growl and posture at the other until one of them was dead. And Taichi would still be missing.  
  
"That's it," she snapped. "It's introduction time, nice and simple." She glared up at the blond man. "_You_ are Yamato, correct? Good," she praised when the man nodded, looking dully impressed into obedience. "My name is Hikari, I'm Taichi's sister. This," she waved over at the gaping electronics expert, "Is Koushiro, my brother's best friend."  
  
The men were staring at her. This was almost fun, except for the Taichi-being-missing part. She _had_ to get him back. She pinned Yamato with a hard glare.  
  
"Now that's settled, you're going to tell me exactly what's going on, starting with the explosion and finishing with what you're doing here and why my brother isn't with you."  
  
This time, Salamon yowled before Yamato even had the chance to turn his head. His skin took on a greenish tinge and he gave a melting glare to Koushiro's blaster before speaking.  
  
"The explosion was a group of men blasting into the throne room."  
  
"The throne room?" Hikari echoed, unable to stop herself from interrupting. Since when did they have a _throne room_ on Taichi's private floor and just what was her brother doing with the man anyway? She looked over at Koushiro. He didn't look surprised. Just pissed. "You knew about this?"  
  
He nodded darkly. "I'll fill you in, but I don't think there's time now."  
  
Hikari could accept that. "Continue. What are you doing here, Yamato?"  
  
The man let out an annoyed huff. "I was _trying_ to escape. But nobody trusted me enough to tell me why I shouldn't have bothered. As it is, I'm still leaving."  
  
Hikari took a step forward. "Not before you tell me where Taichi is."  
  
A pained expression crossed Yamato's face, as if he wasn't sure whether to weep or yell, though it disappeared in the next moment and he stiffly replied, "Taichi was captured and removed from the fortress through the hole in the throne room wall."  
  
"You murdering --" The genius advanced, taking aim.  
  
"Koushiro! You're _not_ going to shoot him!" But she knew as she spoke that there was little she could do if Koushiro decided otherwise. Thankfully, he stopped.  
  
"He's the one responsible for this," Koushiro snarled, glaring.  
  
Hikari frowned. The man did seem guilty. "Is that true? Were you involved, Yamato?"  
  
The blond man looked away and down. "You don't keep slaves here, do you," he said.  
  
Hikari gauged both his expression and Koushiro's before answering cautiously, "No, we don't. Now, were you involved?"  
  
Instead of responding immediately, Yamato sat down with his back to the corridor wall, legs crossed and with an arm propped up to rest his forehead on. He looked very, very tired. "Yeah, I was involved. With Yagami gone, I would've had the chance to escape. I... didn't know Yagami was Taichi until it was too late. And I was too angry with him for lying to me to help." Blue, torn eyes made contact with Hikari. "I'm _still_ furious about it, but now I... I... He should still be alive. The Lord of the ones who took him wanted information from him."  
  
Again, Hikari was confused, while Koushiro just glared daggers. _What on earth were you thinking, Taichi?_ But it didn't really matter what Taichi had intended. The plain fact was that he was gone. And her brother's would-be lover was partially responsible... if that was what Yamato actually was. Hikari wasn't so sure now. Not with all the games that Taichi seemed to have been playing.  
  
Gennai floated up in his chair behind her and raised one shaky hand up to touch her arm. How he had found them in the maze of passages, Hikari didn't know. "The Chosen must stay together," he said softly. "All three of you here now are Chosen, and Taichi too. You must stay together."  
  
_Taichi, I need you. I don't understand what's going on._  
  
Hikari was going to get him back. She had to move quickly. There wasn't time to waste sorting out this mess of lies and trust. Besides, the only two who could really do that were Taichi and Yamato. That decided it. Everyone was sticking together until Taichi said otherwise.  
  
Focused on his supposed enemy, Koushiro hadn't even turned his head at the old man's approach, but he asked, "Who's he?"  
  
"An ally. We're _all_ allies until Taichi's back." Hikari began maneuvering Gennai's chair around. He kindly shooed her hands away and took control over the vehicle himself. She shrugged and kept walking. "Koushiro," she called back over her shoulder, "Come with me. There's still time to catch them. We must have some sort of visual record of their flight."  
  
The genius didn't budge. "Him first," he said, angling his head at the lump on the floor.  
  
Hikari brushed off Koushiro's angry tone and turned to face Yamato. "On your feet and step away from the wall, please. I want you in-between Salamon and myself."  
  
The man stayed put. "How can you be certain I won't attack you and run?"  
  
Hikari regarded him evenly. "I can't be certain, but I trust that you won't."  
  
"Trust?!" The man's shock would have been amusing had it not been mixed with anguish. Hikari felt herself softening towards her brother's intended lover. He looked away from her. "You can't trust me," he said softly. "I'll destroy you."  
  
"For once we agree," Koushiro said, pulling her back by her shoulder as Yamato heaved to his feet. "We should just shoot him and be done with it. He's betrayed Taichi already; we can't trust him."  
  
Hikari looked at Gennai, then at the agitated men.  
  
_I hope you knew what you were doing, big brother._  
  
"You're not shooting him, Koushiro," she said wearily, but as she spoke, she was already moving closer. Her cuff to Yamato's head was abrupt enough to prevent him from dodging her and forceful enough to knock him to his side.  
  
"_That_ was for getting my brother kidnaped. I promised I'd smack you if you hurt him, and we Yagami's always keep our word. Now, pick yourself up and follow along. We're going to get him back." She turned past a stunned Koushiro and began walking. "Salamon, see that he follows."  
  
It took a few moments and a low growl, but soon she heard several sets of footsteps behind her.  
  


* * *

  
It was possible the girl had a better arm than her brother when it came down to a fight. For all that Yamato should have been angry, he actually respected her for that strike. She had sense, decency, and honesty that the others lacked. The blow had been a reprimand, a warning --and once administered, the matter was settled. They each knew where the other stood. Hikari expected Yamato to behave, and Yamato had demonstrated his acceptance of those terms by not attempting to fight back.  
  
Until that point, he'd been planning on escaping, on getting as far away from the Yagami fortress as possible. But now, he just might stick around to make sure that Taichi got back all right. Not for the lying son of a bitch's sake, but for the girl. She loved the oaf and wanted him back. It had nothing to do with Taichi himself. Helping her was simply the right thing to do. Probably.  
  
Yamato tried to avoid any further thinking along those lines as he followed the teenage girl to what was apparently Taichi's suite of rooms. The old man guided his chair into a corner, seemingly content to sit out of the way while plans were made. Yamato claimed the desk chair and spun it around so that it faced the interior. The thing-that-was-not-a-cat took up guard between him and the door and was looking ready to bite should he make any move it didn't approve of. Meanwhile, the little man was talking in hushed tones to Taichi's sister.  
  
"I should let my parents know what's going on," he said. "They'll be able to tell the Council something and keep things from going crazy before we get back."  
  
She nodded. "Go, then."  
  
The man hesitated, directing a meaningful look at Yamato. Yamato was infinitely glad that the girl, despite her youth, had more rank than the red-head and that she seemed to think he wasn't dangerous. The little man still seemed to think that they'd be better off with Yamato dead and he hadn't stopped mentioning his opinion. This time, though, he settled for a _look_ at the girl.  
  
"I'll be just fine," she assured him, not without a hint of annoyance. Koushiro frowned, and the creases deepened when she took the blaster from his grip. "I'll be _fine_."  
  
He looked at her, worried. "You remember how to use that thing?"  
  
"You and Taichi taught me. Check setting, point, shoot. It's not that complex, Koushiro."  
  
The man sighed, then stepped into Yamato's space. It took every ounce of control the blond possessed not to bite off the finger that was being pointed in his face.  
  
"If anything happens to her--"  
  
"Koushiro," the girl warned.  
  
The little man's jaw firmed and he turned to face her. "Be quiet, Hikari. This is about your safety and I want to make sure that he understands me before I leave." When she said nothing in return, the man turned back to Yamato. "If anything happens to her, I will hold you personally responsible. Not only will I make sure that you are in constant pain, but when we get Taichi back, you'll have to deal with _him_. You will not make her cry, afraid, angry, or in any other way upset, else I will revisit the pain on you ten-fold. Have I made your position clear?"  
  
Yamato leaned back from the finger and gave the man a cool look. "Quite so, short stuff."  
  
The other's chest puffed in anger, but the girl called him off with a shake of her head.  
  
"Just go and talk to your parents, Koushiro. It won't take that long. With Salamon and this, I can handle him," she said, raising the blaster.  
  
He sighed, but finally left after a last, acid glare at Yamato.  
  
"You two don't get along very well," the girl observed mildly once the door had shut.  
  
"Hn." Yamato didn't rise to her gross understatement. He wasn't going to be the one explaining the origin of the bad feelings between them.  
  
"It would be better if you didn't provoke him. He's usually a quiet, brainy sort of guy. You must've done something he really doesn't like for him to treat you like this."  
  
"Yeah. Exist."  
  
"Hmm." The girl seemed to be wise enough to pick her battles. Maybe they could just wait in silence now. Instead, the determined look in her eyes intensified. "Well, now that he's gone..." Her eyes darted to the old man who had fallen asleep and she lowered her voice. "Cut the crap. What's going on between you and my brother?"  
  
The direct question brought with it memories of what had happened. All noble thoughts of aiding the girl were tossed out of Yamato's head. He and Taichi wouldn't be able to share the same room. One of them would end up dead. The girl had no idea what she was asking.  
  
"It's none of your business."  
  
"Of _course_ it's my business. He's my older brother!"  
  
"Exactly!" Yamato shouted back.  
  
Yamato darted forward and ripped the gun from her fingers. The monster yowled. He held the gun and she stared at him for one betrayed and horrified moment before he set the blaster on the floor and slid it into an empty corner with his foot. She watched him warily, waiting for his next move. The alarm in her eyes made him feel ill. She'd trusted him, given him the benefit of the doubt, and now he'd scared her. He hated this place. Ever since that horrible night in his room with his father, he found himself doing things...  
  
"I'm not going to harm you. I just want to go. Your brother would understand."  
  
"Maybe so, but I still don't. Explain it to me."  
  
"It's not something that little sisters should be concerned with."  
  
"I heard you two last night and I'm sixteen -- that means young, not stupid or innocent."  
  
Yamato raised an eyebrow at that.  
  
"I talked with him last night, you know," she said. "Afterward. You hit him. His face was bruised and he was sad. Still, he smiled and told me everything was fine." She looked at him accusingly. "It wasn't."  
  
"No," Yamato agreed. "It wasn't fine." He wasn't sure what she'd do next, but after a brief pause, she turned toward the still-sleeping man.  
  
"Gennai, he's not human. He says that you, me, my brother, and Koushiro are Chosen for something. He hasn't explained what, exactly, but I think that as a group we can somehow save the world from how awful it's become. We're supposed to stick together."  
  
"Looks like someone told you a bed-time story. I'm not Chosen for anything."  
  
The girl's stare turned hard. "Do I need to have her transform again to prove nothing is normal right now?" she asked, waving a hand at the creature. It was probably one of those mutant animals. The ones that feasted on blood. His hand rubbed at his arm where the marks had been.  
  
"You _really_ don't want me to stay," Yamato warned, not holding back the threat in his voice.  
  
The girl, teenager, really, met him tone for tone. "I think I really do. I don't know what happened between you and him, but I know that for some reason, despite your rudeness, he likes you. Don't say he doesn't, because he does. I can tell. Koushiro said parts of this attack on Yagami were in motion long before you were brought here. I know Taichi would be happy to see you again, even if you were partially responsible for his being taken."  
  
Her certainty was laughable, so Yamato did. "Taichi didn't tell you what he was doing with me, did he?"  
  
Her head tilted to the side, warily curious. "He said he was keeping you as his guest."  
  
"He was keeping me as a slave, making me think that Yagami was going to do something horrible to me." He wouldn't say the harsh truth to the girl. "Very bad things, and all the while, he was also there as himself, pretending... Your brother fucked with my head and he deserved being kidnaped." Her expression darkened and she scowled. "Now, I know you don't like me saying that, and I know you don't think that's true --"  
  
"If there's one thing I hate above all else, it's being told by others what I think!" The glare she gave him made Yamato take a step back toward the not-a-cat. "For your information," she continued acidly, "I think the three of you are complete and total idiots. If I'd heard about what was going on, I'd have walloped all of you and put a stop to it. Taichi sees me as his 'sweet baby sister,' and I play that part for him and the others because it makes him happy, but I outgrew that point a long time ago. This world we live in doesn't let us be soft. Yes, I'm cheerful and spend long, fuzzy hours in the company of my cat, but I'm not so different from my brother. We're both warriors. I just fight my battles differently."  
  
Yamato felt a smile tug at his lips. The girl was amazing -- strong, loving -- a perfect little sister. She had to be around the same age as his own younger brother. Would the boy have been like her if they'd been raised together? Would he have someone this devoted to him?  
  
"I know my brother," she continued. "I've seen how happy he was while you were here. I don't doubt that he did foolish, hurtful things to you. He's not perfect. He makes mistakes. But if he lied to you, he had an important reason." Her love and conviction were so bright. She stepped closer to him, eyes wiser than her years. "He would want you to stay, and Gennai wants you to, and so do I. _However_, if you're going to hurt him again, I want you to leave. I'll give you money and you can go. I'll tell Taichi you were gone by the time we thought to look for you."  
  
_What? _  
  
She was going to let him go? Just like that? "You'd do that? You'd let me go? What about Shorty?"  
  
"Yamato, that's getting annoying," she said with an iron glare. "His name is Koushiro. Use it. And he's not in charge here. I am. I'll take care of any of his objections to releasing someone with your knowledge."  
  
He _could_... He could trust her, but... No. It was better that he leave. "You shouldn't trust me. I'm dangerous."  
  
She smiled at him. "Yeah, you were real dangerous sliding the weapon into the corner."  
  
Yamato looked away in annoyance, unable to argue her logic. "If I'm truly free to leave, then I will."  
  
She accepted this calmly. "Where are you going to run to?"  
  
"Do you seriously expect me to tell you?"  
  
"No, but have you thought about it? I doubt you'd run home. No one else will take in an outcast Lord. You probably don't have any working skills. What are you going to do? Enter a brothel and whore yourself for a living?"  
  
Yamato rose and his hand darted out to wrench the girl back by her hair, off balancing her slight form. With a cry, she clung to his shirt to keep from falling. His fist was raised to smash her face, but he caught the anger and forced it down, his arm lowering as he regained control. He set the girl upright, then released her.  
  
"You're playing with something dangerous. Be careful."  
  
"You're not so dangerous," she said softly. "I understand that you're angry. I'm not asking you to not hurt him physically. In fact, I'd pummel him myself, if he were here. Whatever happened between you two isn't going to be easy to fix. I understand that. I'm talking long term. Can you forgive what he and Koushiro did to you? Or are you going to hurt his heart?"  
  
Yamato swallowed the ache in his throat. Sympathy from her was just too much, especially when he knew the teenager was having to put on a brave front for her brother's sake. She had to be worried for him, maybe even afraid. Yet she was here, taking command, trying to help Yamato feel better, treating him with more human decency than anyone had in years. He wanted to tell her it would be all right, but the odds weren't in his favor.  
  
"I honestly don't know," he said. Her face fell and she looked old, tired. "But..." He hesitated and then he was certain. "I'll help you get him back. If it looks like I'll need to leave after that, then I will. But, I'll help bring him back for you."  
  
She nodded her head, still appearing exhausted but now pleased. "All right. I'll hold you to your word."  
  
She swayed on her feet and Yamato caught her shoulder. For some reason, possibly out of habit, the girl interpreted his support as permission to lean closer and before Yamato could avoid it, he was hugging her. He was going to step back, but her arms locked around his waist.  
  
"Lady Hikari," he began. She looked up at the sound of her name. He could see the worry and fear in her eyes. Not of _him_, but for Taichi, for her brother. She returned her head to his chest. He allowed himself a sad smile, then pressed his lips lightly against her hair. "I'm sorry."  
  
She straightened a bit and made a show of glancing at her arm. "It's all right. I deliberately provoked you. I doubt I'll even bruise."  
  
"Well, for that too, but..." He had to force the words out. "I'm sorry that I... helped them take him away from you." The girl nodded, but said nothing. He couldn't tell if she was crying or not. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, rubbing her back soothingly.  
  
This time she sniffed. "Are you going to tell him that?"  
  
His hands stilled for longer than a moment, then resumed. "I'm still furious, but yeah. I'm going to tell him that."  
  


* * *

  
  
Koushiro opened the door to Taichi's rooms and instantly became alarmed. The gun was nowhere to be seen and Hikari was trapped in Yamato's arms. The old man was asleep? Unconscious? Dead?  
  
He burst through the doorway. "Get your hands off her," he snarled, raising his weapon.  
  
Rather than be grateful for the rescue, Hikari easily moved away from Yamato to block Koushiro's path. She glared at him. He ignored her and focused on the blond.  
  
"Is your sex appeal able to hook everyone but myself, or is it just a thing with siblings?"  
  
The Lady's eyes blazed. "I am _not_ attracted to him, Koushiro. Quit acting like a jealous prick."  
  
"I'm _acting_ like someone who can see the hazard of letting a dangerous man run around in anything less than a full-body restraint. I go away and leave you with the blaster and I come back and the gun's who knows where and he's got his arms around you. What am I supposed to think!?"  
  
"The blaster's on the floor in the corner. It wasn't helping anything. Yamato and I had a nice chat while you were taking care of things. And it's called a _hug_, you jerk -- something _you_ should have offered me at some point."  
  
Koushiro took a step back. Hikari had wanted a hug? From him?  
  
_Well, with Taichi gone, she's probably feeling a little shaken and... oh hell._  
  
He sighed and dropped his pride. It wasn't so bad to apologize to Hikari, but Yamato... He made himself do it, though. Hikari deserved it. "I'm sorry, both of you. I'm upset about Taichi being gone." Another sigh ripped free. "What's important is getting him back. We should be working together, not fighting."  
  
Smiling, even though he was probably the last one to come to that conclusion, Hikari came to him then and wrapped her arms about his neck. "Thank you," she whispered, pressing close. "I need your support right now, Koushiro. I can't do this alone."  
  
Koushiro tightened his arms around her awkwardly, mindful of Yamato watching them. After a moment, he disengaged from the hug before the man could take up the idea to go after the weapon on the floor.  
  
"Right. Well, preparations are almost ready." He eyed Yamato. "We still need to know where he's being taken. The video from the few cameras not wiped out suggests that they're traveling north, but they could be taking him anywhere," he lied, wanting to know how their not-quite-a-captive would react.  
  
"Yamato?" Hikari turned hopeful, faithful eyes on the silent man.  
  
The blond looked vaguely annoyed. "The men I came in contact with never told me who they were working for. Judging by the current political situation and the resources at the attackers' disposal, I suspect that it is Lord Kidou or one of his sons, but I have no proof other than my own hunch."  
  
_Amazing. He's actually telling the truth._  
  
"Hikari? A word with you in private?" He motioned her toward the door. "Will Miko be able to watch him with you not in the room?"  
  
She opened her mouth to speak, then shook her head. "I'll fill you in later. Yes, she's fine." The girl followed him after a last glance to the ex-Lord.  
  
Koushiro shut the door. "There were a few cameras I set up that they didn't get to. The ship is the _Zempi_. It belongs to Lord Kidou's sons. I can't imagine that they'll be taking Taichi anywhere else but the fortress."  
  
Hikari looked at him sharply, but no rebuke came for his earlier deception. "All right. They'll have to fly around Takenouchi to reach Kidou's fortress. I can ask Lord Sora to allow us to pass straight through. I'm pretty sure she'll let us."  
  
"Lord Sora always follows military code strictly. She'd never let us go."  
  
"She will if we tell her we think Taichi might be alive."  
  
"What? No. Absolutely not."  
  
"Not that he _is_ alive," Hikari said earnestly. "Just that there's a rumor that he might be. The secret would still be safe."  
  
Koushiro huffed in frustration. He hadn't spent years helping Taichi hide just to let all and sundry know that he was still alive.  
  
"Have _you_ got a better plan for getting him back quickly?" she asked.  
  
"Fine. We try your way. We can always fly around if she refuses." Koushiro scraped his hair back from his forehead. "Have you any thoughts on what we do once we get to Kidou's fortress?"  
  
"You have an arsenal packed on our ship?" she asked. He nodded. "Then we can plan out what weapons and tools to use while we travel. Our mission is to get in, get Taichi, and get him out. We need to move _now_."  
  
It was foolish. It was dangerous. It would probably get them killed and then Taichi's spirit would plague Koushiro's ghost for eternity for getting his baby sister killed. "Right. We'll figure it out on the way. I'll go make sure everything is getting prepared correctly," he said, turning. Hikari's hand stopped him.  
  
"I'll check. Yamato's coming, so you two need to call a truce before we go." Koushiro opened his mouth to protest, but he opted to shut it when a look made it clear she would not be interrupted. "I have a feeling that whatever issues you two need to work out, it would be better if I weren't there to overhear. So settle this now. We need to work together. It's the only way we're going to get Taichi back."  
  
"We don't need him."  
  
"We do. Gennai says we have to stick together."  
  
"Since when do you make a habit of listening to senile old men?"  
  
"I'm not sure what Gennai is, but he's _not_ senile. Besides, do you really think we can get Taichi back with just the two of us?"  
  
He turned away from her at the words. They couldn't bring any of the fortress' guards. Not with the attack being planned from the inside. Koushiro needed time to make sure all of the spies were found and Taichi didn't have that time.  
  
The chances of anyone surviving this mission were slim. He knew Taichi would have wanted Hikari kept safe, but the last time they had tried locking her anywhere for her own protection, she had broken out two minutes later. They had created a monster, the pair of them teaching her -- a monster well-trained in combat and infiltration -- but she was still too young. Koushiro doubted Hikari would appreciate being reminded of this, so he waged his argument another way.  
  
"The chances are low that we can succeed at all, but we could do it alone. And maybe we _should_. How do we know Yamato isn't just going to escape into Kidou's lands or kill Taichi if he sees him?"  
  
"He promised me. I trust him. He's coming, Koushiro. It's not your decision to make."  
  
Koushiro drew in a breath and weighed Hikari's resolve. He was bigger (not by much), he had more resources at his disposal, he had more know-how. Yet she was a Lady -- one who ordered, one who was obeyed. She would not threaten him into obedience. If he insisted, things would be done his way. But if he insisted, she would never forgive him.  
  
"Hikari . . ." It was insane to bring the ex-Lord. "Do you know something I don't?"  
  
She smiled up at him. "Taichi's not the only one to get hunches, Koushiro. He's coming. And that's final. Get yourself on speaking terms. We leave as soon as the ship's ready. I want medical and ration kits on there as well. We need to be prepared for anything."  
  
Koushiro drew a breath and released it. That was why Hikari was a Lady. That was why grown men would follow the orders of a sixteen year old girl. The instinct to lead, to dominate, was in her blood. He bowed. "Yes, my Lady."  
  
The smile she gave him glowed with pride and approval. And then the Lady was gone and it was just Hikari giving him a trembling smile. "We're going to get him back, Kou." Her arms closed around his neck as she pulled him tight. "We have to, okay?"  
  
"I know," he said, returning the hug. "We will."  
  
She departed, dry-eyed and focused, and Koushiro was left alone to face Yamato's door. He fingered his weapon. No matter how much Hikari trusted him, Koushiro never would. But... the girl was right to say that they needed a truce.  
  
_I'll try_, he promised. _But if he makes another crack about my height, all bets are off._  
  
He entered the room. The old man was still asleep, the weapon was still on the floor, and Yamato was slouched with a bored expression in the desk chair.  
  
"Lady Hikari is checking on our ship. She's ordered that you and I are to call a truce."  
  
Miko uncurled from her spot and oozed around Koushiro's leg and out the door.  
  
"You don't seem to want one," Yamato said, his eyes tracking the cat's progress.  
  
"I don't, but it's not about what I want right now. It's about getting Taichi back. Why are you willing to help us?"  
  
"I have my reasons."  
  
"That's not good enough for me. Name one."  
  
Yamato raised an unimpressed brow. "Hikari reminds me of the little brother I never knew."  
  
Koushiro scoffed, "Right. What other lies have you got cooked up?" He was fixed with an annoyed glare.  
  
"Sitting around doing nothing for however long it's been has put me in danger of being bored to death. I don't think this little mission will put me in the same danger. Change is good."  
  
That, Koushiro actually believed. "Two weeks." He almost smiled when the ex-Lord stared at him blankly. "It's been a bit more than two weeks that you've been here."  
  
Blue eyes widened in surprise. "Funny. It seemed so much longer," he murmured. Koushiro felt himself being measured. "So, you're his best friend?"  
  
"Yes. If you're going to run, I won't stop you... no matter what Hikari says. But if you try to hurt either of them --"  
  
"Yeah, yeah. I know," Yamato broke in, standing as he waved the words away. There was amusement in his eyes that transformed his face so much that Koushiro could almost see what Taichi saw in the ex-Lord. "You two are so alike it's scary. Just spare me your threats. If I wanted the Lady injured she wouldn't be breathing right now. And Taichi's secret is safe. It's not me you have to worry about." He began moving toward the door, his trajectory nearly assuring that he'd roughly bang shoulders with Koushiro. At the last second, Yamato stepped around and smoothly exited the room. "Let's go."  
  
Koushiro noticed that the man had made no such promise as to Taichi's physical safety. His behavior wasn't aggressive, though. It would do for now.  
  
"Let's," he agreed, falling into step behind the ex-Lord where he could keep an eye on him.  
  
"I want some normal clothes," Yamato said, not looking back.  
  
"Fine. Down the right-hand hall at the third crossway."  
  


* * *

  
In the waking world, Taichi thrashed against the wall of the cabin where he was slumped with his hands bound behind him.  
  
Deep within the construct of his own sleeping mind, however, his back was up against a wall he couldn't see and familiar faces trapped him in an advancing semi-circle.  
  
Hope and joy filled him as the first face he recognized belonged to his father, but all was dashed as his father spoke. "You're not taking care of the people our family has protected for generations. I'm very disappointed in you, son." He shook his head disapprovingly. "Taichi, what have you done?"  
  
The young Lord clenched his fists, but found a leather whip in his grip, glistening with liquid. Taichi dropped it. The small boy from Masaharu's fortress darted forward and picked up the bloody whip.  
  
Taichi pushed it away when it was offered to him.  
  
"What's the matter, Lord?" the boy asked. "Don't you want it?"  
  
Lord Ishida stepped forward. "Yes, lad, give us a show."  
  
Taichi shook his head. Ishida... he... shouldn't be here. The boy... the boy _should_ but when Taichi looked up, the young slave was gone.  
  
Koushiro. Koushiro would know what to do. He gripped the genius' arm. "Where's the little boy? Where did he go? We need to help him."  
  
"We can't save him, Taichi. He's probably dead by now," his friend replied.  
  
Hikari spoke next. "He was younger than me," she said, stepping closer. "I can't believe you left him to die."  
  
But Hikari didn't know about the boy. She didn't know.  
  
"No," Taichi pleaded. "He was alive. I tried my best not to hurt him."  
  
Koushiro smiled sadly, then removed Taichi's hand from his arm, withdrawing his support. "But you left him there in favor of getting Yamato out. I really don't know how you were able to choose one life over another. Maybe it's because you're a monster."  
  
"No!"  
  
"When did you decide Yamato's life was more important?" Hikari asked. "Would you choose him over me?"  
  
"What kind of person would do something like that?" Koushiro shook his head in disappointment.  
  
His sister and best friend vanished. Ishida returned, his smile charming and wide.  
  
"How's it going with my son? Have you broken him yet? You promised me you would."  
  
"That's..." It wasn't true. It didn't matter what Taichi had told Ishida, Taichi wouldn't hurt Yamato.  
  
"Have you heard him scream?"  
  
"No! No, I won't hurt him!"  
  
"But you're lying to me, aren't you, Taichi?" Yamato said, stepping from the shadows to join the ring of accusers. The blond started removing his shirt, a teasing look in his eyes as he stripped. "You want me, don't you, Taichi?" he husked. His fingers lingered on the last button, but finally the fastening was undone and the silk slid from pale shoulders. "You want _this_."  
  
Yamato turned. His skin was covered in large bruises that were fighting for space on his back in colors of blue, purple, black, and the occasional violent pink. It was worse than what he'd seen in the fake throne room.  
  
"Yagami said they were pretty. What do you think?"  
  
"It's awful, Yamato. If I could've --"  
  
"But aren't you Yagami? Isn't that the big secret?"  
  
"I wanted to tell you, Yamato. But it wasn't safe."  
  
"Not safe for you, but was it safe for me, then?" Yamato laughed, disbelievingly. "You had Yagami's Slavemaster choke me nearly to death. That doesn't matter, though. You think being that bastard Yagami is a role you can take on and off like a hat. But the mask, Taichi, it grows into your skin. One day you'll go to take it off and you'll find it gone. But it won't have disappeared. You'll look in the mirror and see that your face has changed. You've got to be the truth, or else you become the lie. And all the pretty speeches in the world won't save you then."  
  
Taichi closed his eyes and swallowed. Strangely, Yamato's words hurt the least. Maybe, because they echoed his own thoughts.  
  
"And if you think," Yamato continued, "That I can forgive you for what you've done to me, think again. Ah..." The blond glanced at his wrist. "Are they ready?" There was no answer that Taichi could hear, but Yamato nodded. "Then let them in."  
  
There came the sounds of gates opening -- a loud clanging of bolts, the low moaning protests of metal-upon-metal, and the thud of heavy doors falling into place.  
  
Yamato bowed to him. "Sleep well, Taichi. You've given me a comfortable bed tonight. I hope yours is just as kind." He faded from view.  
  
Alone in the darkened room, Taichi had to force himself to step away from the wall. He wasn't going to cower in the dark like a child.  
  
A low, agonized groan surrounded him from the blackness. It was the suffering of a thousand voices, and it was coming closer.  
  
Then he saw them.  
  
Taichi shrank back against the wall as one by one, slave after slave emerged from the shadows. Their ages ranged from diapered infants to frail elders, but each one bore the same expression of pained hopelessness. Their eyes stared at him accusingly.  
  
The mass began closing in on him. He couldn't see Yamato, but the man's voice whispered to him. "These are the people who die every day, Taichi. These are the people you try so hard to protect, but can't. These are the people who die in my place because you had to have me, a man you lust for, a man who hates you and always will."  
  
The groaning of the multitude turned into a chant. Over the din, Yamato's voice was strong.  
  
_ The mask you wear becomes your face, _  
  
_ As your face becomes the mask _  
  
_ And your duality, once held with grace, _  
  
_ Will cause their nightmares to come to pass. _  
  
_ Now events swirl at break-neck pace, _  
  
_ Doomed by the questions you didn't ask _  
  
_ While the tattered virtues you struggle to embrace, _  
  
_ Will crack your will like ice-steel glass. _  
  
His sister's voice joined in, the two voices ringing in tandem as the slave boy from before stepped forward and held out the whip.  
  
"The mask you wear becomes your face, as your face becomes the mask. The mask you wear becomes your face, as your face becomes the mask. The mask you wear becomes your face, as your face becomes the mask... and one day, the balance you have juggled so carefully will slip. It has slipped already, hasn't it, Taichi?"  
  
"Hasn't it brother?"  
  
"Hasn't it Lord?"  
  
"You're the monster now."  
  
Their voices faded slowly on an echo as Taichi curled into a ball, hands fisted in his hair and his eyes clenched tightly closed. He could hear a distant whimpering sound and his own pounding heart, and he screamed when hands reached out and started to shake his shoulders...  
  


* * *

  
Letting none of the irritation that he was feeling show on his face, Hunter watched as Greene approached their twitching prisoner.  
  
Their first guess had been that Yagami was faking a fit, but when no demands came, Greene had the idea that their captive was asleep and dreaming. Definitely nightmare, from the look of it.  
  
Hunter was of the mind to let the prisoner look after himself. The Lord didn't have much of a future to look forward to and the decent thing to do would be to allow him some privacy.  
  
Greene, of course, insisted on interfering.  
  
Long ago, Hunter had decided it was easier to go along with Greene's whims than to fight against them, so long as no damage was done to crew, goods, or ship.  
  
"Hey! Wake up!" Greene bellowed near the black metal ear carved into the side of the mask. Greene gave Hunter a look and shrugged at the lack of the Lord's response. His hand gripped the sleeping man's arm and gave the body a sharp jerk.  
  
Random thrashing turned into a violent struggle. Hunter gritted his teeth and held himself still. Greene could hold his own in a fight -- especially one against a man with his arms secured behind his back.  
  
True to thought, Greene avoided the flailing body without incident and backed away as their captive calmed, settling into a crouch a rough meter away from the Lord.  
  
"Bad dream, huh? I woke you up."  
  
The Lord stayed silent. With the mask still on, it was impossible to tell if he was even listening. Hunter lay a heavy gaze on his younger partner.  
  
"You're wasting your time if you're waiting for a thank you. Come on. You've done what you came for."  
  
Greene turned back to glare at him. The man knew better than to vocally disagree with the leader of an operation, but it didn't put him above bullying the orders to be changed. Hunter gave a slight shake of his head and ground his teeth in annoyance. It wouldn't be good for Greene to get too attached. Yagami likely wouldn't survive Lord Shin's interrogation and releasing him after such treatment would be begging for war.  
  
"I'll get you some water before I let you be," Greene said to Yagami, his eyes daring Hunter to challenge his statement.  
  
Hunter didn't.  
  
Greene returned with water in a styrofoam cup and offered it to the prisoner with a cheerful smile. "Here you go. I'm not sure how you'll drink it with that mask on, but I'm sure you'll manage somehow, yeah?" He raised the glass to the prisoner's metal 'lips'. The head turned away. "What, don't trust it? Here." Greene took a moderate sip. A space built into the mouth of the mask opened and Greene raised the cup to metal lips.  
  
"Don't choke now," he warned, voice only slightly joking. "You want some more?"  
  
Hunter quietly fumed. Yagami shook his head and the mouth on the mask slid shut. "Thank you," he heard the Lord say quietly. Hunter waited for the deals, the bargains to spare the Lord's life, but none came. The prisoner rested back against the wall and remained still. The rise and fall of his chest was masked by the thick body armor. He looked dead already.  
  
The man's lack of action bothered Hunter. Yagami had revealed himself to be soft-hearted in private, but even so, any sane man would have put up more of a fight. He could have resisted and lived. Instead, he'd surrendered, or perhaps more correctly, he'd simply given up.  
  
Hunter's sharp instincts didn't sense any cause for concern from their captive. Really, the only concern he had was of a pointless and entirely different sort. But in that, everyone's hands were tied. Lord Shin played his games too well.  
  
Greene returned to Hunter's side and they left the cabin, heading for the flight deck. While Hunter took the controls, Greene settled into the co-pilot's seat and the stubborn set to his jaw told was warning enough that his soft-hearted partner was about to be exceedingly stupid and stubborn.  
  
"You can't get attached. He's a dead man, Greene, and you knew that when you accepted the assignment."  
  
"I'm already attached." came the upset reply. "You know he's actually doing good work. He pretends to be awful, but he isn't. He doesn't have to die. We could..."  
  
"Abandon the rest of the team? Lord Shin won't hesitate to kill them if we don't return."  
  
"But, maybe..."  
  
"He will. I haven't told you yet. It was never the right time." It was a stupid, pointless death. He'd lost men on dangerous missions, but having lost a good man with a young son to a power-hungry Lordling's power trip galled him. "Kuchiki won't be there to greet us when we return. All because I didn't agree to follow you on this mission quickly enough for Lord Shin's tastes. So unless you want the slaughter of everyone we hold dear on your conscience, we're bringing Yagami in."  
  
Greene swallowed. He said very quietly, "Fine. But I don't have to like it."  
  
His responsibility weighing heavily upon him, Hunter sighed.  
  
"No," he said softly. "You don't."  
  


* * *

  
Sora paced around the edges of the control room. The day was not going well, and she was no closer to a solution for the situation with her mother. The beeping of an incoming transmission halted her brisk steps.  
  
"My Lord Sora, there is a ship at our south-western border requesting direct passage through to the Kidou capital."  
  
Sora sighed. "You bothered me for this? The answer is _no_, Commander. All interterritory flight plans must be approved at least one week in advance and no paths may fly above this fortress. Now, explain to me why you've wasted my time with a question to which you already know the answer."  
  
"Lord, Lady Hikari of Yagami is making the request, my Lord. She's asked to speak with you, your Lordship."  
  
The young daughter of High Lord Yagami. By herself. Requesting passage.  
  
Interesting.  
  
Sora had been introduced to the young Lady only briefly, years ago. The girl never left the Yagami fortress. What could she possibly want from Takenouchi?  
  
Sora glanced up at where Piyomon rested on the back of her chair and murmured, "Listen up, Pi. I'll want your input on what she says." To the nervously waiting man, she said, "Go ahead. Patch the transmission through, both audio and visual. And, Commander, I should not need to remind you that this conversation is private."  
  
He snap-saluted. "Yes, Lord. Patching Lady Hikari directly through now."  
  
Only a moment later, Sora's viewscreen showed an image into a medium-sized flight deck. Hikari was seated next to the pilot. Behind her was a blond-haired man, and next to him, an older sleeping man.  
  
"Lady Hikari, I trust you have an excellent reason for your request. And is that Lord Yamato with his face turned away?"  
  
The light-haired man turned forward and raised his chin. "Lord Sora, a pleasure, as always." Yamato greeted, recovering from his horrible attempt at incognito with brief charm. Sora ignored it.  
  
The absent Lord Yamato had been in Yagami... probably the entire time. And now this odd little group was turning up on Sora's doorstep. Or, as close to it as they were going to get without an excellent reason.  
  
"Lady Hikari, I repeat, why do you need passage through to Kidou?"  
  
The girl stood, face tightly drawn and clutching her animal in her arms. "We need to rescue my brother. He's alive, and being taken, we think, to Kidou."  
  
Taichi.  
  
Sora's hope flared, though she knew it was impossible. Her memories of Taichi were few, but they spanned as far back as their early childhood. He'd shown her, back then at _that_ time, that he was kinder than his father. And from the scattered brief encounters following after, her respect for the young Lord had grown. He'd never openly defied his father, but whenever he and Sora had been alone together, she'd seen him do good. And when Yagami's craft went down, his son had gone running and ended up paying for his loyalty with his life in a cruel twist of fate. Or so everyone had believed, until now.  
  
"You think Taichi's alive? What about Yagami, what does he say?"  
  
Hikari looked down. "My father doesn't know I'm going after Taichi. I can't tell him."  
  
Which begged the question: why not? Was it possible the girl had discovered her father had been the reason behind his son's disappearance? Why else would she attempt something so dangerous on her own with only the help of what appeared to be escaped slaves?  
  
"How do you plan on getting him back?" When silence followed her question, Sora snapped, "You _were_ planning something, weren't you?"  
  
The teenager blushed. "We were going to get there first, then figure it out."  
  
Soft-hearted, well-meaning amateurs stood no chance against Kidou's power and Yagami's wrath.  
  
"You," Sora said, fixing Hikari with a hard look, "Are an idiot. And you two," she looked between the young men, "Should know better."  
  
"It's all right, Hikari," the tense, red-headed pilot said, glaring at Sora the whole while. "We can go around. He'll be fine." The pilot reached to end the transmission.  
  
"Wait, Koushiro," the Lady commanded. She placed the animal on the chair behind her, then bowed low. "Lord Sora, please? For Taichi? He doesn't have time for us to go around."  
  
"Hold," Sora told the group, suppressing a sigh. She blanked the A/V feeds then twisted back to look up at Piyomon, absently rubbing a pain in her chest. "What do you think?"  
  
Piyomon leaned forward and lifted her wings for Sora to scratch beneath. "You were sad when you heard news that Lord Taichi was killed while looking for his father. If he truly is alive and needing help, you should do what you think is right."  
  
Sora gritted her teeth in irritation and left off with the scratching in order to fold her arms. "Do you think she's telling the truth about Taichi being alive?"  
  
The bird cocked her head to the side. "I believe that she thinks she's telling the truth. But that's enough, isn't it? You know they'll all be killed if you don't help them."  
  
Sora shook her head. She didn't want to get involved. It was better to stay out of it.  
  
"I'll bet your mother would be upset if you helped them, Sora," Piyomon said casually, bending down from her perch to nibble at Sora's hair.  
  
"Right," Sora said bitterly. "And I should do it for that alone."  
  
Piyomon chattered her beak. Pain flared in Sora's scalp as the bird tweaked an auburn strand. "Do it for whatever reason you need to believe."  
  
Sora sighed. "I thought you were supposed to be supportive of me, Piyomon. This sounds like a lecture."  
  
Piyomon chirped with a rustle of wings. "You did ask for my opinion, my Chosen." The bird nibbled again, this time more gently. "I'm not saying you should trust them completely, but I know if you don't help now, you'll always wonder. The others I can't speak for, but Lord Taichi deserves our help; and Lady Hikari, too, I think."  
  
The Lord snorted. "Fine." At the very least, she owed it to Taichi. She bowed her head as the memories threatened to surface. Sora forced them down and brought the communications channel back online. Hikari and the others were waiting on her.  
  
"All right. I'll help you."  
  
White-faced, Hikari broke into a faint smile. "Thank you, Lord Sora."  
  
Sora glared. "You'll thank me by explaining what's going on after this is all over."  
  
"Understood," the girl finally decided, earning her a hiss and a glare from the pilot. Sora wondered who the bad-tempered man was to dare oppose a Lady. Not a slave. Surely not her boyfriend? Hikari wasn't a vision, but she could certainly do better. Sora shook the thought away.  
  
"Now," the Lord said, her mind already thinking ahead. "You can't rely on intercepting the ship before it reaches Kidou. You need a plan, and at the very least, a way into the fortress, since that's almost certainly where they're heading."  
  
They needed a reason to be at Kidou's fortress, one that would get them inside the landing bay and able to return through there as well. They needed a ship, too -- one that wouldn't suggest the occupants came from Yagami.  
  
She smiled. The _Hawker's Bliss_ was perfectly suited to the task and her pilot would be just crazy enough to help.  
  
Sora transmitted the coordinates of a nearby airstrip. "Land at this location. _Hawker's Bliss_, a merchant ship, will meet the four..." The elderly man had a few too many years to be considered spry enough for a rescue mission. "Will there be four of you?"  
  
The old man's lips moved. Yamato shook his head and spoke shortly in a volume that didn't carry over the audio connection. Sora watched as a hushed argument played out on the viewscreen. In the end, the old man was sitting up straighter and the other two males were looking aggravated. The girl's cat jumped over into the elder's lap.  
  
"The four of us," Hikari said, an amused quirk to her lips.  
  
"Very well," she said, still doubting that the man wouldn't keel over during the mission. "My pilot will meet you at those coordinates and transport you on her ship into the Kidou fortress. I won't risk her safety, so you'll have to find your own way out. With all the ships there, though, I doubt you'll have too much trouble."  
  
The Lady and her pilot looked at each other, Hikari with a smile, the pilot with a frown.  
  
"Thank you, Lord Sora, for your generosity. We will explain ourselves afterward when there's more time."  
  
"See that you do." Sora cut the transmission.  
  
She allowed herself to slump back in the chair, but straightened again before her muscles had fully relaxed. There was work to be done. Miya needed to be contacted.  
  
A few button presses later and she was looking at Miyako's yawning face. Her purple hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and glasses were recklessly perched on the tip of her nose. Her friend had been asleep. During waking hours, Miyako preferred her burgundy-tinted contacts.  
  
"Sora, it's _early_," the woman whined. "Can't this wait another three hours?"  
  
"Sorry, Miyako. It's important. I've got a favor to ask." Sora paused, finally realizing that of the two dark circles beneath her friend's eyes, one was ominously darker. She hummed in disapproval. "Are you all right?"  
  
Miyako delicately fingered the puffy mark. "What, this? Professional hazard. I'm fine. One of my clients got a little rough last night. A bit of makeup and I'll be as good as new. What's the favor?"  
  
By day, Miyako helped out her family's merchant business by delivering goods all across Japan. By night, she made extra money providing bedroom pleasures to men who, for various reasons, did not keep sex-slaves. Through one business or the other, Miyako had the power to go anywhere.  
  
"I need you to call up one of your boyos in the Kidou fortress and convince him he must have something delivered to him immediately. You'll be smuggling in a group of people."  
  
"A whole group? That's risky, Sora."  
  
"It's only four and you just have to get them there. They'll find their own way back."  
  
"All right. Now?" She yawned. "Are you sure it can't wait another couple of hours?"  
  
"Lady Hikari is in charge of this little expedition. She believes Lord Taichi is alive and in need of a rescue."  
  
"Lady Hikari and Lord Taichi? You... oh. _Oh._ I'll get right on it." She turned away from the camera, but the sound of her voice still transmitted clearly. "Hawkmon, alert Mantarou and let the ground staff know I want _Bliss_ flight-ready in fifteen minutes."  
  
"Roger!" a male voice chirped.  
  
Miyako turned back to face Sora and the two shared a conspiratorial nod. Sora's family wasn't the only one to form a close partnership with some very special birds.  
  
"Where am I picking them up?"  
  
"I told them you'd meet them at the airfield just south of your location."  
  
"Without waiting to ask if I'd do it?"  
  
Sora smiled. "Why bother? I knew you would."  
  
Miyako grinned. "Bitch. Okay. I should be there in less than half an hour." With one hand, Miyako covered another yawn; with the other she pointed at the screen.  
  
"What?" Sora asked, confused.  
  
The woman finished the yawn. "Behind you," she said.  
  
Sora hadn't heard anyone enter. She spun the chair, already reaching for her weapon.  
  
Kalisto was standing behind her.  
  
Eye twitching uncontrollably at the sight of the old hag, Sora's patience snapped. "I. AM. NOT. GOING. TO. BED!" she bellowed. "SOME THINGS ARE MORE IMPORTANT THAN SLEEP!"  
  
The woman's response was shamingly mild. "Of course not, dear, it is only mid-day." Kalisto chuckled and patted Sora's cheek fondly, giving her a light pinch, and withdrawing when the Sora moved to slap away her hand. "You remind me so much of your grandmother, dear. Anyway... I overheard your conversation with Lady Hikari. No..." she tutted, "Never mind how. What's important is that I suggest you ask to join them." She winked. "I'll cover for you if anyone asks."  
  
Sora restrained the urge to strangle the old woman. And made a mental note to lecture her friend on the proper way to warn a person. A glance at the screen revealed a giggling Miyako.  
  
"Piyomon," Kalisto addressed her companion expectantly, as if she somehow knew the bird was aware of something Sora was not.  
  
"Sora," Piyomon began, "The pet Lady Hikari was holding is a digimon. She could be Chosen, like you and Miyako."  
  
The sound of Miyako's giggling stopped and Sora's mouth went dry.  
  
"Sora," Kalisto's hands were once more gentle upon her cheeks. "You cannot hide from your duties, no matter how much your mother wishes it. Your power is a part of you that you cannot deny without suffering serious consequences. Toshiko is a good woman, a strong woman. And though the choices presented to your mother have been difficult, she has not turned -- and for better or for worse, she has made her decisions. Now, you must make your own."  
  
_My path. Not my grandmother's, or my mother's, but mine and mine alone._  
  
The Lady-turned-Lord nodded. "Miyako, fly here instead. I'll need a lift also."  
  
"Got it. I'm sure I'll find someone willing to give me an invite. See you soon."  
  
Sora stayed in front of the viewscreen and hailed the Commander on the south-west border. "Put me back in contact with Lady Hikari's ship." The screen blacked and then she was looking at the rescue group once more.  
  
"Change of plans. Fly to my fortress. The transport ship into Kidou will meet you here. I'm coming with you."  
  


* * *

The day was turning out to be rather dull, in Daisuke's opinion.  
  
Soccer practice had been yesterday, and while Lord Daisuke enjoyed a life of leisure that allowed him to play whenever he wished, the other teammates did not. Even his usual group had things to do today. Jun was in one of her moods again, so both friendly and antagonistic interactions with her were out as well.  
  
Daisuke folded himself into the large window bay in his room. Most people chose to fill the spaces with viewscreens, but Daisuke kept his with simple transparisteel panes, allowing him to look down on the world 82 levels below. It was so very far away.  
  
It was a pretty day, he decided. The sky was brown with streaks of red and white. The tarmac threads leading every which way had been cleaned recently, so their sharp blackness glinted in the weak afternoon light. The river, too, was also cleaner than usual -- its waters were a deep brown instead of a greenish black. Hovercars zoomed. Marketstreets bustled. Industrial areas pumped out never-ending clouds of multicolored smoke. All in all, it was a very pretty day.  
  
Normally, watching life go on below him made Daisuke content. Today, though, something stirred in him. He was antsy, waiting for something to happen... something important. And it did.  
  
The telecom on his desk rang on his personal line. The identity of the caller was blocked, though, which should have been impossible. Intrigued, Daisuke answered.  
  
"Hello, Daisuke, my Conqueror," said Ken. Every indigo hair on the Tamachi captain's head was in its place, like a dark crown. Pale violet eyes regarded him calmly as their owner's thin mouth quirked up at the corner in a smile. "I'm calling so that we may make arrangements for my penalty."  
  
"Uh, right," Daisuke said, his mouth going suddenly dry.  
  
"I've filed the necessary forms with my university professors. As long as I have access to a computer terminal and a small amount of personal time, I should have no problem spending a month serving you."  
  
Panic. Daisuke could feel it starting in the pit of his stomach and creeping up his neck. He knew he was panicking. He'd rehearsed this scenario with Jun, but he couldn't stop the impulse to babble nervously. "Uh, about that. Is it really necessary? I mean, I already have slaves and all, and really what's one more? You'd --"  
  
"You're comparing your slaves to me?" Ken asked with a superior smile. "I have known the lifestyle you lead. You give orders to your slaves and they obey them, yet _I_ will be able to anticipate your needs and serve them before you are even aware that they exist. I will be very, very good to you, my Master."  
  
"I... I..."  
  
"You accept?" Ken supplied. "How wonderful. I knew you wouldn't be one to break a time-honored tradition. Would you like me to arrive tomorrow or the day after?"  
  
Daisuke was hyperventilating, but he couldn't calm his breathing. This man, this gorgeous, intelligent man wanted him -- was coming here to wait upon him hand and foot and possibly other body parts too.  
  
"So excited that you can't speak? Very well. You must wish for me to come tomorrow. See how well I can read you? I will meet your every desire without you having to speak a word... But first," the man said with a predatory purr, "Tell me more about yourself now so that I may serve you better later."  
  
"I, uh... um... I like to play soccer."  
  
The second the words left his mouth he knew it was the most utterly wrong thing to say.  
  
_Stupid. Stupid! _His own brain clamored at him. _You WON him in a soccer game, moron! _  
  
Why would a genius seem to be attracted to someone as brainless as him? Ken would offer to pay the financial penalty now. There was no way he'd still want...  
  
"My, my. You like to play soccer? What a fortunate coincidence. So do I." Violet eyes and a smile devoured Daisuke. "I have a feeling we're going to become _very_ good friends."  
  


* * *

  
Wormmon glanced over again at one of the many monitors on the wall. Some showed interiors of the labs and cell blocks, others showed the exterior of the base and the surrounding area, but those the caterpillar-type digimon was focused on most showed the interior of his Master's quarters. Master was talking on the telecom in his suite, a smirk resting undisguised on his face. Wormmon guessed that Master was talking to the soccer captain, Lord Daisuke. Although he had noticed lust in Master's thoughts, he knew that Master was more interested in the man because he was the only son of High Lord Motomiya and ensnaring him would give the Kaizer easier access to that fortress' security.  
  
Normally, Wormmon wouldn't concern himself with Master's plans for the High Lords -- in his experience, they deserved all the trouble Master caused them. But Lord Daisuke was different. There had been a feeling, a sense Wormmon had gotten from the young man at the soccer match. At the time, the tugging sensation had seemed familiar, but it was only later that night when Wormmon had been able to finally place it. The Lord was Chosen, like Ken, but lacked a partner and thus still broadcasted his status to any digimon in the vicinity.  
  
If Lord Daisuke were able to befriend Master... That single possibility changed all the rules Wormmon had made for himself. He would get closer to Daisuke, somehow. The Lord might be an ally strong enough to help pull Ken back from the dangerous edge he walked.  
  
The disconnecting tone of the telecom sounded from Master's suite and Wormmon stiffened in anticipation of his Master's presence. Master walked into the control room, one gloved hand rubbing leisurely over his groin.  
  
"You," Master said, addressing him. "I do not want to be disturbed for the next hour." The hand pressed harder and Master's teeth bared as he hissed in pleasure. "Perhaps longer. You will see to it."  
  
~Yes, Master.~ Wormmon ducked his head in obedience and Ken swiftly left. The door to the suite shut and locked. The caterpillar would have spared a pitying thought to Lord Daisuke's future, but there was no time. He wriggled across the command console in a practiced dance, tapping the keys that would silence the alarms in Master's room. If they rang, Ken would never know until Wormmon told him. It was time to execute the plan.  
  
Normally, his telepathic communications to other digimon were limited to physical line-of-sight, but the link he shared with V'mon was deeper. He reached out, stretching to feel his bonded's presence.  
  
~V'mon?~  
  
~. . .~  
  
~V'mon?~  
  
~. . . I am here.~  
  
~Master will be occupied for the next hour. This is our chance. Do it now.~  
  
~Understood. Warn me if the situation changes.~  
  
Wormmon sent an embrace of love and support through the link, then closed it. He needed to be alert, watching for Master. He refocused his attention on the monitors and looked on as Master disrobed and entered the shower. So Master would be a while. Master had made adjustments to the shower and when he used it for non-cleaning purposes he was almost always occupied for longer than an hour. V'mon had time, then. Wormmon would be blamed, but the task would be done.  
  
Small Nezumimon skittered out of a small hole in the wall and tugged Master's discarded clothing away to be cleaned.  
  
Wormmon avoided looking at what was going on in the lab. If he became too nervous for V'mon, his Chosen would feel it and emerge. He needed to distract himself. Ken. Wormmon would think about Ken. His Chosen was used to the dull ache that accompanied Wormmon's thoughts of Master as a young boy and young man. With luck, the lust Master was experiencing would prevent him from recognizing Wormmon's discomfort entirely.  
  
Dutifully, Wormmon watched the suite's monitors, the perpetual worry in his heart throbbing in time with his pulse. Ken had changed over the years. Though Wormmon had learned a few ways of dealing with his partner's anger, it hadn't been soon enough to prevent a suffering boy from transforming into a cruel, obsessed dictator -- the Kaizer, his Master. Wormmon loved him still, but sometimes the reasons were harder to remember. Especially when the schemes being plotted were too horrific to go unchallenged.  
  
Master was special. Wormmon had sensed that from the beginning, and as the boy grew into a man, Ken's intellect grew from above average to chillingly genius. With his twin sister's death, the crumbling of Ken's family, his brother, Osamu's, betrayal, and Ken's exile, the ties keeping the boy to the path of kindness were destroyed. As a young man, Ken's university work focused on genetic manipulation. In the school labs, Wormmon's Chosen demonstrated his enhanced understanding upon plants, but in the man's private labs, both here and in the digital world, Master experimented with sentient test subjects.  
  
Master excelled at forcing manipulations of the Digital World using a mix of his own world's technologies and his own superior instinct. His earlier projects had been focused upon various forms of mind control that would allow Master to command an army of digimon to ultimately destroy all other digimon. Now though... Wormmon shuddered.  
  
Master wanted to create the perfect soldier. He'd started by enhancing the abilities of single digimon. The genemod treatments were excruciatingly painful. The Control Rings weren't perfected at that initial time, so the task of caring for the experiments while Master was away had fallen to Wormmon. In the beginning, Wormmon had been too terrified to communicate with the test subjects. With gentle probing, he finally discovered that what his Master didn't know wouldn't anger him. It upset Wormmon, spending time with the digimon who were quickly destroyed for failing the experiment, but he forced himself to do it, soothing the frightened digimon with mental communication since they were not allowed painkilling drugs.  
  
And then came Experiment #22. Genemod attempts 'A' through 'U' had failed. V'mon was Master's First. Wormmon hadn't liked V'mon before his modifications. The blue, dragon-type digimon had been born a Baaruniimon -- a species of dinosaur-type digimon ridiculed by all others for being purple, pudgy, weak, tone-deaf, and very dull-witted. Master's first modification had been to the Baaruniimon's voice and mind, deepening the former and removing the inclination to sing from the latter. Then came other changes... blue scales with a white underbelly, more power, more speed, more intellect, a penchant for violence and cruelty. But it had been Wormmon who taught V'mon about love. And there was one further modification Master did not know about, a side effect of the others -- more cunning. V'mon's ability to manipulate, deceive, and plot was far superior to Wormmon's and perhaps even exceeded Master's own abilities. As Master's First, V'mon was put in charge of Master's other digimon troops and thus had more freedom than Wormmon himself.  
  
_V'mon... Be safe._  
  
Wormmon couldn't hold himself back from checking any longer. With moderate effort, he used his small body to push the keypads that would call up the cameras in the experimentation lab. Most of the screens showed shots of equipment or suffering digimon, but two screens the small digimon watched closely.  
  
The first was one of several cameras aimed at Kimeramon.  
  
Wormmon had to focus very carefully to keep his mental shudder from echoing down to his Master. Ken was a bright boy, with a strong grasp of genetics. Somehow, he had figured out a method for fusing genetic material from a test subject to an already living creature, thereby triggering a mutation.  
  
His Master, in his hatred, was using controlled digimon to battle against other wild digimon. Though the fighting sickened Wormmon, some of what Ken was doing was good. There were some digimon who didn't try to live peacefully. They enjoyed causing harm and drinking the blood of humans, and even killing for sport rather than for food. But the Kaizer didn't distinguish between good and bad, only those under his control and those who weren't. And eventually, he wanted them all destroyed.  
  
Thus, Master's goal of creating the perfect digimon soldier. The project's subject, Kimeramon, was so mutated from her original form that it was impossible to tell what her initial type had been. Only Ken knew and he hadn't mentioned it. The digimon raged in her holding cell, scratching gashes in the walls that were deeper than the length of the caterpillar's body. She was beyond help now. Wormmon looked away.  
  
The second video screen showed a small dinosaur-type digimon. Agumon's eyes were closed, but the way his tail trembled proved he was still conscious. Burns and whip-marks marred his golden-hued hide and a thick black metal collar squeezed around his neck. Scummy water and what passed for food lay untouched in one corner of the cell. The once-proud rebel leader was waiting to die.  
  
Wormmon, evolved to Stingmon and with the help of V'mon's evolved form of Fladramon, had captured Greymon. The success of the mission had earned him rare praise from Master, but soon after, Ken was wholly focused on Kimeramon's delicate construction. Agumon was used for genetic code, then tortured first for information and then for fun. If the rebel warrior died here, nothing good would be accomplished. But if he were freed, he could return to his group and warn them: Kimeramon was coming.  
  
Wormmon saw the door in the golden dinosaur's cell hinge open. V'mon stooped to enter, then closed and locked the door by reaching his long arm through the bars and around to the front.  
  
V'mon's lips moved once. Twice.  
  
A single green eye cracked open, the digimon's mouth barely moved, and then the eye fell shut.  
  
V'mon spoke again. Longer, this time. Sharper. Wormmon could feel his bonded's intensity through their link.  
  
And then Agumon was standing alert, despite his battered body.  
  
More of V'mon's words. He moved forward and fed the captive five of the army's specially formulated ration bars. More words. More words. More words. A nod.  
  
Wormmon tensed. Greymon had fought honorably. Would Agumon act the same now?  
  
V'mon passed the unlocking wand over the Ring. The blue dragon caught it before it could fall and stuffed it into the pack he carried. Agumon remained unhostile. V'mon tossed down a cracked Ring they had saved from a different experiment.  
  
Agumon was handed a datapad containing information on the base, on the Kimeramon Project, and on Ken himself. The golden dinosaur was the leader of the Chosen Force, a band of rebel digimon still loyal to the Chosen. Wormmon hoped what he had written would be enough to sway the rebel leader into sparing Ken.  
  
If anyone attacked Ken, he'd keep the young man safe, no matter the cost.  
  
V'mon stepped to the side as Agumon faced the cell door and blew fireball after fireball until it exploded outward. Alarms screamed and the caterpillar saw heads jerk up on all the monitors -- except in some of the prison cells. What was one more scream when you could hear your own?  
  
Agumon sagged, but V'mon caught him and helped him cross the still-flaming wreckage.  
  
Wormmon frantically searched the wall of monitors for a view of the hall his bonded and the rebel were in. By the time he found it, V'mon was stowing more wrappers from ration bars and almost immediately after, they moved.  
  
He knew it was hopeless to follow their entire path, but he and V'mon had mapped it out months ago. Five screens -- four tricky spots in the escape route and then the final exit. Wormmon had their locations memorized by heart.  
  
They made it past the first. While he waited for the specks of blue and gold to appear on the second screen, his attention flickered to Master's suite. The main room was empty. Master was still in the shower. Then they were on the second monitor.  
  
And the third.  
  
Wormmon knew this was the most dangerous point, but before he had even recognized that the two were in trouble, V'mon had torn out the other digimon's throat. The dragon moved swiftly off camera, but Agumon remained, staring down at the bloody carcass. A clawed blue hand encircled the golden forearm and dragged the digimon onward. Wormmon watched and watched, but no more surprises came.  
  
~He is away.~  
  
Wormmon acknowledged his bonded's thought and saw the rebel leader move across the rocky terrain on yet another monitor. It wasn't done yet.  
  
This code he was clumsier at and he had to reset the command prompt and start over twice for pressing the wrong key in the sequence.  
  
Finally, V'mon's program ran. And _then_ it was done. The security recording data for thirty minutes on either side of the execution command would be garbled beyond all hope of being sorted out.  
  
Now, all that was left was to wait and accept his punishment.  
  
On the screen, Wormmon saw his Master enter the main room and begin dressing. The caterpillar crawled down and spread himself prostrate on the floor, ready for Master's return. The door opened. He didn't dare look up.  
  
"Anything of interest happen while I was away?"  
  
~Forgive me, Master, but the prisoner escaped.~  
  
"What?! Which one?"  
  
~The rebel leader.~  
  
"Why didn't my First stop him?"  
  
Wormmon cringed at the anger flooding their mental link. ~V'mon was at the other end of the base when it happened. Something went wrong with the comms and all of our archived A/V records are scrambled from before and after it happened. By the time the troops were notified, the prisoner was out of range and the Airdramon Fleet could not spot him. V'mon has investigated the escape and surmises that a rebel strike force entered the base. He found many dead bodies along their path and a broken Ring in cell.~  
  
"Why was I not informed of this when it happened?"  
  
Wormmon forced himself to look up briefly. ~ You said you did not wish to be disturbed, Master.~  
  
"Now, _pet_," Master said the word like a curse, though the tone was deceptively gentle. "Wouldn't things like a forced entry on this base or a prisoner escaping be something I should know about immediately? And what orders have I given about situations like this?"  
  
Wormmon flattened himself to the ground and said nothing.  
  
"WHY WAS I NOT INFORMED!?"  
  
~Please forgive me, Master.~  
  
The Kaizer lifted him up and hurled his body against the far wall. Wormmon struck the dark metal with crushing force, feeling as if his skin would crack open and his guts splatter. There was a blissful moment of freefall and then more blossoming pain as his body met with the unyielding floor.  
  
It hurt, but he raised his head from where he lay on his side. ~Master. . . ~  
  
The tall man walked over and positioned his booted foot over Wormmon, pressing down hard enough to make breathing through his spiracles difficult.  
  
~Master!~  
  
"You disappoint me, monster."  
  
~I'm sorry, Master. Forgive me.~ _Ken, please! Don't do this. I don't want to hurt you._  
  
Wormmon had the power to throw off Ken's foot, but at such close range, he wasn't sure what sort of permanent damage he'd leave behind.  
  
~Wormmon! What's wrong?~ V'mon's agitated voice broke in. Their bond had alerted him to the trouble. ~I'm coming for you.~  
  
~No, stay where you are. He's not mad at you. I'll deal with this. I'll be okay.~ Wormmon winced. The Kaizer was crushing him. He directed his thoughts back at his Master. ~Master, forgive me, please!~ _Ken, I'm your friend! I'm only trying to help you. Please!_  
  
The pressure increased for an unbearable instant, then disappeared completely. "You will be punished for your incompetence."  
  
Wormmon took in a careful breath. His entire body felt like a single bruise. ~Yes, Master. I understand. Now?~ He hoped not. He wasn't sure if he could move. Gingerly, he tried rolling over into a standing position. Nope. He just barely managed to hold back a cry of pain. Master hated it when he whimpered.  
  
Master stared down at him. "No, I won't deliver your punishment now. Later. I had plans to conquer sector 27P today."  
  
~Master, I love you.~  
  
The young man stiffened instantly. "You would," Ken sneered, glaring before he stalked to his throne and sat there, eyes focused on the wall of monitors. "If you can drag your carcass that far, you may sit at my feet."  
  
~Yes, Master.~ _Ken. . ._  
  
It hurt, but Wormmon did it. That was the way it was with his Chosen.  
  


* * *

  
While she flew, Miyako kept one eye on their flightpath and one on the viewscreen showing the cramped passenger cabin. Both ears were trained on the increasingly tense conversation.  
  
Sora's newfound companions were an interesting bunch. The two women had agreed that while Sora would not go to any lengths to hide Piyomon, the group should not be told about Miyako's feathered companion. Sora had handled the brief introductions, stating only that Miyako was a trusted friend and would get them into the fortress. Lady Hikari had bowed politely to Miyako and then Sora had led them to their seats in the small passenger cabin without further conversation -- if one didn't count the mistrustful grumblings of the younger men as conversation.  
  
In the cabin, the old man and the cat settled in the back. Something very unusual was going on there. Miyako thought she could see some sort of a pink fog around the pair, but no one else seemed to notice.  
  
Sora and the others gathered in the center of the room and set their minds to planning the infiltration, a wide arc of dark backpacks and bags stuffed with equipment spread out in a semi-circle around them. Miyako didn't need to hear them in order to tell that the cutie with the glasses and the blond pretty-boy weren't playing well together at all.  
  
It was amusing watching the little group of would-be rescuers. Miyako would have found it more laughable, though, if her best friend's life weren't also on the line. As things stood, the rescue appeared doomed to failure.  
  
Keeping a watchful eye on the monitor, she piloted them closer to the Kidou Fortress.  
  


* * *

  
The storage room was cramped by crates overflowing with off-season holiday decorations. Sometime during their escape, the power in the fortress had surged. Critical areas, including the family levels, remained powered, but non-essential rooms were dark. The holiday decorations were kept in the final three rooms of a long chain of storage areas. Getting to the deepest room required passing through all of the others. Jyou had chosen to hide in the second room. With any luck, no one would look for them here, and if they did, they'd search the final room the hardest.  
  
He had given in to the exhaustion and slept some -- collapsed, really -- but now he was unquestionably awake. Mimi still dozed with uncommon restlessness in a pile of garland. He longed to join her, even in what would be a fitful rest, but his nerves were too rattled.  
  
It was real. It was really happening. His father, his brothers, they wanted him dead. His own family. There was a short list of people Jyou knew he could go to for help, people who had been friends of his mother, but he feared the list was known to his family as well. If he asked for aid, their lives would be put in danger.  
  
In the time that had passed, he'd made the vague plan to sneak out on a transport of some sort... but the idea required stealth and weapons and carried a less than favorable chance of them escaping alive. It was two lives, not just his own, that were at risk and Jyou had no idea what to do. So, he sat in the dark and waited. And worried. And waited.  
  
The sound of the store room door opening was almost a welcome relief from his indecision. It sent his pulse racing and he prayed to the gods that Mimi stayed asleep. He still had the medkit she had so thoughtfully brought along. With its contents he could have offered her a swift death, himself as well, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Now that chance was past. Kill or be killed -- what sort of life was that for a scholar and aspiring health practitioner? He gripped his weapon tighter, not knowing if he had the nerve to use it again. Yet, the decision might not be necessary. The room was crowded and they were well-hidden; there was a good chance they would be overlooked.  
  
Crisp footsteps belonging to a single person entered the room. A high-intensity flashlight swept the aisles near the door and then progressed deeper into the room. Making as little noise as possible, Jyou shifted to turn his back toward where the search light would shine. His clothing was dark. He could blend in. They could be passed by unnoticed.  
  
The footsteps came closer and paused as their owner searched further, sounded again, paused, sounded again, paused... Jyou's breath was stilled to the bare minimum. He closed his eyes. The steps were very close now. He felt a flash of barely-there warmth across his back, opened his eyes, and saw his own silhouette shadowed on the crate in front of him. Mimi still slept. He was glad. Jyou bowed his head and waited for the blast of pain that would swiftly bring his death.  
  
"So, little brother, this is where you've been hiding."  
  
_He's willing to talk? _Hope flared and Jyou turned to wince against the glaring light. He couldn't see a thing and so guessed by voice and demeanor alone. "Shun?"  
  
There was a pause. "You're damn lucky it's me who found you. Everyone else has orders to shoot you on sight. Technically, I do too. Grovel as you see fit."  
  
Jyou was not groveling and while he might trust Shun, trusting Shin would be fatal and the twins' voices were similar enough to throw doubt on the man's identity. "You aren't going to turn us in? Why?"  
  
"Because although father supports it, this whole gambit is Shin's pet-project. It would be better for me if he didn't succeed."  
  
Jyou relaxed a little. It made sense. Any failure, perceived or otherwise, on Shin's part would make Shun a better candidate for the next High Lord of Kidou. "I see. Thank you, brother."  
  
"Oh, don't mistake me." There came the clicking whirr of a blaster's dial setting. "I _do_ want you gone. I'll give you a choice, though. You can leave, or I can put you out of your misery."  
  
Jyou stood and tried to casually shift sideways to block Shun's view of Mimi, but his brother was much more alert than Jyou at this point and the beam of light darted to illuminate the sleeping woman.  
  
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You never could put your toys away properly, Jyou. If you're planning on running, you should kill her. It'll be kinder."  
  
Jyou forced himself to stand up straighter. "Stay away from her."  
  
His brother laughed easily. "She's your pet. Do with her what you will. Just know that if things don't work out for you, she'll suffer even more."  
  
Jyou had nothing to say to this. Shun was correct. If he failed in their escape, her fate would be worse than death. Mimi's hand touched the back of his thigh and he twitched in surprise.  
  
"Please, I want to stay with you, Lord. Or kill me, if that is your wish. I exist only to please you. I accept your decision with gratitude, happy that I have been by your side for this long."  
  
He hadn't known she'd been awake. Jyou reached behind him and stroked her arm. "It's all right. Hush now. We're sticking together." And he cursed himself for his weakness, his dependance on her presence. She would suffer because of him. It was certain.  
  
"Oh how sweet," Shun drawled. "If you two don't make it out alive, I'll have her ashes placed next to yours when they're through playing with her."  
  
Mimi's hand latched tighter on his. Jyou did his best to squeeze back reassuringly; his mind was focused on other matters. "You'll help us?" he asked. "How?" Jyou still wasn't sure he should believe Shun.  
  
"I already have. The main power went out and has stayed out and the backup generators are operating at only 35%. How do you think that was accomplished?"  
  
Jyou had no answer for this. Shun had the ability to create the problem, but the darkness helped little and security was doubtlessly tightened.  
  
"Idiot," Shun ridiculed, ignoring Jyou's silence. "Were I in your shoes, I would've been gone by now, yet here you are, cowering in the dark. Clearly you need a greater miracle than the lights going out to get your skin and that of your pet's away in one piece. You'll be taking _Zempi_."  
  
Jyou gaped. Supposedly the three brothers were to share the magnificent Takenouchi-made ship, but rarely did Shun or Shin give up their control. If he were to take it now, they would never get it back. Father would be displeased and Jyou doubted Lord Takenouchi would be willing to part with another ship of _Zempi's_ caliber, even for the exorbitant sum _Zempi_ had been purchased with.  
  
"I can take something else, Shun. You'd just have to set it up."  
  
"That's precisely the problem. If you take any other ship, they'll know I helped you. I've managed to cover my tracks thus far. I won't have my image soiled for a piece of junk destined for a scrap heap."  
  
Jyou could feel even Mimi perking up now at Shun's words. It was a blatant lie. The twins loved _Zempi_ and the ship was easily the best in the fleet next to their father's.  
  
"I'll do as you say, brother."  
  
"Good. Father's ship's undergoing modifications, so it's in no condition to fly. Now, I've altered the ship's security code by increasing every other alphanumeric of the old one by three, starting with the first digit. Got that?"  
  
Their father's ship was unable to fly. That one little detail, dropped in so inelegantly. Shun tended to speak more bluntly to Jyou, probably believing Jyou too dim to comprehend subtext. Jyou definitely caught the underlying message. Kidou forces wouldn't be able to catch him if he took _Zempi_. "Yes, I understand."  
  
"You and I are the only ones who know the code's been changed. If you run into trouble, that should give you a few minutes to spare. Once you clear the hanger, head south. The Northern Lords will not welcome you. The Southern Lords might not either, but you have a better chance. Stick to a south-west course. I'll have the search focus south-east. The dance we'll have with Lord Takenouchi's border patrol will give you enough time to get clear. Security is tight in the hanger for some reason. I'll do what I can to alleviate the problem, but you must be ready to move when the chance presents itself."  
  
Jyou sucked in a fortifying breath of air and he dropped Mimi's fingers to stand on his own. "We'll be ready," he answered.  
  
Shun stepped forward, aiming the light away. "Mother always loved you best, you know," he said quietly. The elder man's fingers raked through Jyou's hair and then trailed down to cup Jyou's cheek. "Be safe and fly far, little brother."  
  
"Shun..." Jyou moved and his older brother's chest was warm and solid against Jyou's forehead. He closed his eyes to keep the emotions at bay and he marveled at his brother's embrace, so different from Mimi's.  
  
After giving him a moment, Shun shoved him away. "Go now. Never return here. I will not protect you again."  
  
"Thank you. I understand. I'll -- "  
  
Biting his tongue against the goodbye he wouldn't speak, Jyou's hand found Mimi's and they left.  
  


* * *

Hikari had lost her tongue along with her control of the situation.  
  
"Well," Koushiro yelled, "why don't I just spare us all the trouble by dropping my pants so you can paint a target on my ass!"  
  
"Awwww, shy?" Yamato asked, in a falsely saccharine tone laced with hate. "But you've already seen mine."  
  
There was a marked pause in which everyone was silent. Hikari could tell Koushiro had heard himself finally, as his face flushed first white and then red. Yamato did an admirable job at not continuing the taunting, although Hikari could tell that he wanted to. Even Lord Sora, sitting aloof from the rest, had her lower jaw kicked to one side... if it had been resting properly, Hikari suspected the Lord might have been smiling. Instead, the older woman appeared merely curious and clearly expected Hikari to handle the situation if anything was to be done.  
  
Hikari glanced over at the small sofa in the back where Salamon was giving Gennai further healing treatment, then she stood and stepped between the two warring men, facing her brother's best friend. She didn't blame Koushiro for cracking under the stress. While Yamato had technically behaved himself, everyone within earshot knew that he had purposefully goaded Koushiro into making such a statement.  
  
She reached out for the junction of his neck and shoulder and eased a gentle pressure against his skin. Separating Koushiro from Yamato would be the easiest solution. She put the extra effort into finding a graceful reason to send him away, even though everyone would know that was what was being done.  
  
"Koushiro, I'm concerned about our flight status. Would you please go up to the pilot and ask how we're doing? Also, if she has any intel on the fortress we're flying into, could you find that out from her, too, please?"  
  
She hoped he wouldn't fight her on this. He and Yamato needed to be separated if any planning was to be done and though he was the head of Yagami security, he really wasn't the breaking and entering sort. Yamato had the inside info of the Kidou fortress that she needed and Koushiro didn't.  
  
Koushiro's dark eyes tracked over to Lord Sora and the two shared a look. Hikari had the odd feeling that she was being talked about without any words actually being said. His attention returned to rest on her.  
  
"Of course, my Lady," he said, his lips reined tightly in suppressed anger.  
  
"Thank you, Koushiro. We'll continue to work on an extraction plan here. I look forward to hearing your report a half-hour before we land." She hoped that the two men would be able to leash their aggression for at least that long.  
  
Koushiro took his leave and Hikari faced the rest of the group.  
  
"Not that I'm disappointed to see Mr. Short-and-Grumpy go," Yamato drawled. "but isn't he going to be annoyed that he's not involved with the planning?"  
  
"Yamato?" She leveled a penetrating look at him, displaying her displeasure fully. "Who were you talking about?"  
  
He froze and carefully maintained his composure. "My apologies. Koushiro," he corrected, having remembered his promise to her. "And while I think everyone here will admit he was getting out of control, the man knows things. Do we really want to plan without him?"  
  
"You and Sora have both been to the Kidou Fortress. You know the Lords. Koushiro doesn't. Half an hour should be enough time to integrate his experience with what we decide. Now, we need to think about who's going to look for Taichi. No one should go in alone, so there'll be a pair and a group of three, with Gennai remaining with whoever stays to secure our transport out of here."  
  
"I still don't see why you're bringing the old man," Sora said, bringing up her earlier point of argument. "He's a liability. You'd do better to just shove him out the door and be done with him."  
  
"And you insisted on bringing your bird. We both have our reasons."  
  
"Piyomon is a skilled warrior in her own right," the Lord contended, her voice cold.  
  
Hikari was at a loss. Lord Sora was unlikely to accept the truth.  
  
"Well, that's good to know," a voice rasped out, halting Hikari's internal dilemma. They all looked to Gennai who was sitting up with Salamon curled in his lap. The age had left his face, which was now smooth, and his eyes twinkled a merry blue. "This one has healed me as much as she can for now. I may not be able to move very quickly yet, but I'm strong enough to move the both of us to our escape transport. I'd appreciate Piyomon's protection, if she's willing."  
  
Piyomon flew to him and circled a few times before landing on a nearby chair back. The pink head wavered back and forth, trying to get a closer look, then the bird let out a pleased-sounding chirrup.  
  
"Guess that's settled," Yamato remarked dryly. Lord Sora glared. "As for the rest of us, Sora and I should be the ones to track down Taichi inside the fortress." Hikari gave him a sharp look. "If he's there," he amended convincingly. "There's a small chance that they'll keep him on the _Zempi_, but I don't think we'll be so lucky. Sora and I have both been there before, and we know the environment. If you or...." he paused, rethinking his next word, "Koushiro try to infiltrate deeper into the fortress, you'll be at a disadvantage."  
  
"Your faces are more recognizable," Hikari said, frowning. A part of her wanted to be there when they found Taichi, regardless of the practicality, and if the two Lords went in and were recognized, or if either one betrayed them... but no. She'd trusted them this far and doubting her own judgement served no purpose. "If you get caught, they'll know who you are."  
  
"That could work both ways," Lord Sora told her. "If guards see you or the uppity man wandering where you shouldn't be, they'll have no qualms shooting you or hauling you in for questioning. Our faces are well-known enough that we can feign clearance with all but the most strictly trained of security units."  
  
"Or one of the Kidou family," Yamato interjected while clearly giving Hikari a look that said: 'Why doesn't _she_ have to use his name?'  
  
"Either way," Lord Sora continued, "as long as we don't run into those types, we can pull rank. They'll eventually know we were present, but the security grunts won't dare haul us anywhere."  
  
Hikari still wasn't convinced. "Even if you don't get taken into custody, it would still be a problem. Lord Kidou will know you were there if you're seen. It's one thing for my people, those of Yagami, to break with Kidou after what's happened. But your house, Lord Sora, still does business with him."  
  
The older woman shook her head. "Assuming you haven't made all of this up, he or one of his sons attacked another High Lord's son. Kidou cannot claim wrongdoing against me or my house without revealing their own misdeed. Besides, I've got financial and technological clout on my side. They want Takenouchi ships and that desire will smooth over pretty much everything."  
  
Her words made sense to Hikari, even though she still wanted to be the one to look for her brother. At least she wasn't in this alone and had the benefit of the Lord's experience.  
  
"All right. I'll trust the task of getting Taichi back to you two. Kou and I will make sure we've got a way out of here while you're at it."  
  
"Agreed," Yamato said.  
  
Lord Sora nodded once, then turned to the packs she had brought with her. She handed one to Yamato. "That's a medkit. We may need it. And here's one for you," she said, handing another to Hikari. She overturned a third pack and neatly wrapped bundles of wires and electronic components poured out. "The cat can ride in this, and Piyomon can perch on it if necessary. The old man might need his hands free."  
  
"What are these?" Yamato asked, picking up two devices that looked to Hikari like the headset Koushiro often wore.  
  
The female Lord's eyebrow quirked up. "Prototypes. My people have been working on them for the past six months. They've been tested in lab conditions and a bit in the field, but they haven't been released to the market yet. Normally, inside a fortress, it would be impossible to maintain covert radio transmissions. With these devices, we'll have to keep the chatter to a minimum, but it should remain undetected."  
  
"There are only two," Hikari noticed with dismay.  
  
"Two groups, two headsets," Yamato said, claiming one for himself and gaining a cool sidelong glance from Lord Sora.  
  
"But there are three groups," Hikari said, gesturing at Gennai, Salamon, and Piyomon. It would be safer for her and Koushiro to secure their ride out of the fortress without an entourage.  
  
_~I think we can help with that, Hikari.~_  
  
The female voice, rich and rolling, came out of nowhere. "What?" she asked, not a little alarmed. The others looked at her.  
  
_~No,~_ the voice said calmly. _~Reply in your head. I can hear you now because we're in the same room, but if we're out of earshot, you need to reply in your mind.~_  
  
_~SALAMON?~_  
  
_~Softer, please. If we're too far apart, it just won't work. No amount of mental shouting will help.~_  
  
_~Like this?~_  
  
_~Perfect. I should've been able to speak with you like this the entire time we were bonded. I thought it was something wrong with me. A punishment. But I've been talking with Gennai. He thinks that there was some sort of mental shield generator at the fortress. It makes sense if your ancestors were having to deceive powerful... people... who just might have been evil, telepathic digimon.~_  
  
_~Oh,~_ Hikari replied faintly. It was a little too much information for her to handle on top of the rescue plans. Meanwhile, everyone else was still staring at her. _~Can you talk to anyone?~_  
  
_~Usually, to most people, yes. But I'm weak now, from the healing, so I can only manage to project to you. I'll teach you how to shield properly later... the way you're speaking right now, anyone could hear, including our enemies.~_  
  
_ ~Enemies?~_  
  
_ ~Don't worry about them right now. That'll come later.~_  
  
_ ~Oh,~ _she said faintly, again. It was really too much.  
  
Yamato's arms came around her shoulders, steadying her against the sudden need to sit down. "Hikari, are you all right?"  
  
Blushing, she pushed herself away. "I'm fine. Um..." She remembered Lord Sora was in the room and wondered wildly what she was supposed to say to explain herself or her newfound ability. "I should eat a ration bar. I think I've been running on adrenaline." She cleared her throat. "I'll handle signaling Gennai. It's not something you two have to worry about."  
  
Yamato looked doubtful (or perhaps worried) and Lord Sora seemed suspicious, but neither challenged her assertion.  
  
"Focusing back on getting to Taichi," Yamato began. "You said that there's a tracker on him?"  
  
Hikari nodded, but Lord Sora broke in. "It'll be useless now. Kidou's men would have found and disabled it by now. And if it worked, why wasn't his body recovered earlier, when he went missing?"  
  
Damn Lord Sora's sharp mind. "I think there was foul play going on," Hikari answered, using the tension she felt inside as cover of another sort.  
  
The Lord's eyes darkened. "Your father."  
  
Hikari trembled. "Maybe." Damn, damn, damn. "Later, we'll talk about this later," she half-asked, half-pleaded.  
  
"Very well. Later," Lord Sora answered, clearly not giving up the matter entirely. "So you think the transmitter will still be active?"  
  
"Yes. It remains dormant until it receives a coded signal, then it transmits a short burst. The receiver's designed to latch onto that burst and create a positioning map from the data."  
  
"That's impossible," Lord Sora uttered.  
  
"That's just one of Koushiro's inventions," Hikari said proudly, casting a meaningful glance at Yamato.  
  
"Guess the little creep's good for something," he muttered. "I knew you guys didn't just keep him around for his sparkling personality."  
  
Hikari debated whacking him lightly for that utterance, but let it go. His attitude had lightened the mood and she was grateful. She took out the device from one of Koushiro's bags. "He calls it an HPS. Something-or-other Positioning System." Lord Sora appeared highly curious, but Yamato was quicker and snatched it out of her hand.  
  
"I can work this," he said. "When we land, I'll do the initial trigger and hope it picks up his signal. If not, we'll go deeper in and try again until we do."  
  
Apparently, Lord Sora was too mature to childishly liberate it from Yamato's hand, but Hikari suspected words might be shared between them in private. For the moment, she seemed impressed by the claim. "If he produced a working device like this, I can see how he holds such a prominent position now."  
  
Wanting to avoid further inquiry along that line, Hikari gestured toward a fourth bag that was still untouched at the older woman's feet. "What's in there?"  
  
The woman grinned. "That? That's mine to carry. On the rescue mission, we might find a need for explosives."  
  
Yamato took a long step backward and Lord Sora smiled at him wickedly.  
  
"But you were so eager, Yamato, to play with the other equipment. Don't you like packs of explosive putty?"  
  
"No. I'm sure you're quite capable of handling it yourself."  
  
"I can handle the HPS, too."  
  
He held it out to her in a tight grip, not letting her take it from him. "I want it back. His ass is mine."  
  
"That so?" the Lord inquired mildly as she took the controller from his relinquishing grasp.  
  
"Yeah," he returned darkly.  
  
Hikari decided the less said from her, the better and wondered what Koushiro was up to.  
  


* * *

  
Koushiro had to bite down hard on his tongue. _He_ was Taichi's best friend. _He _was in charge of the fortress security. It was _his_ responsibility to see that Hikari remained safe on this rescue mission. Yamato and Lord Sora wouldn't look out for her like he would. The plan... it was only half-formed and yet she wanted him to leave, to let others take up what was rightfully his responsibility and honor.  
  
Koushiro sent Yamato what he hoped would be a killing thought. This was all the blond's fault. He felt his lip curling and though he hated himself for how childishly he was acting, he couldn't stop it.  
  
It had been a measure of how tired he was that he'd left without further argument. Taichi had to be rescued, of that there was no question. But to let the others come up with the plan that absolutely had to work... he was at once both relieved and scared utterly out of his mind.  
  
As he keyed his entry into the pilot's cabin, he hoped that the woman would let him rest and gather his courage.  
  


* * *

  
The cabin door swished shut and moments later the scowling red-head settled stiffly into the the co-pilot's chair next to Miyako. She could tell he was avoiding relaxing into the form-molding padding, as if it was his job to be uncomfortable.  
  
Miyako found his pout utterly adorable.  
  
"Lady Hikari requested that I monitor our flight progress," he tossed out gruffly.  
  
Miyako pressed her lips together to hide a smile. She'd been watching the group's conversation and, even without the audio, knew that the Lady had sent him here to separate him from the blond. The mutual grudge they carried was readily apparent.  
  
If it had been Miyako left to deal with the sniping men, she would have locked them in small dark space together. Often, when bickering was at the level the two displayed, lust of some sort was the culprit. Though, she certainly didn't mind the Lady's solution.  
  
Most women would've preferred the blond, but Miyako had more pretty men fawning over her than she had pairs of lacy underwear. Far rarer and more of a catch was a man with brains. Not that Lord Yamato's wit suggested a lack... but perhaps, more correctly, Miyako had a taste for cute nerds -- statistically, in her experience, they were much more entertaining in bed than gorgeous men who could have any partner they desired.  
  
The man sitting next to her was tense, obviously worried, and Miyako set a portion of her attention to coaxing him into a better mood. She noticed how his eyes tracked her every motion... not nervously, he was appraising. He _flew_.  
  
"You're a pilot too, aren't ya, sugar?"  
  
The man bristled at the pet name, dark eyes flashing. "I am, when the occasion calls for it. I don't believe we were ever introduced. My name is Koushiro."  
  
Miyako gave him a dainty toothy grin. "Lovely name, darlin'."  
  
"I would prefer it if you would use it," he said stiffly.  
  
"Of course you would, sugar," she said, placing her hand on his knee and trailing it ever so slightly upwards. "But I'm just not that kind of girl."  
  
He cocked his head, curious now and faintly blushing. Miyako could tell he was wondering _'So what kind of girl are you?'_ despite himself. She reeled the seduction back and offered him the hand to shake.  
  
"My name's Miyako. Miyako Inoue, pilot and captain of _Hawker's Bliss_."  
  
"I'm pleased to make your acquaintence and I thank you for agreeing to help us on such short notice," he replied automatically. His glance darted around the cabin and his tone became more genuine. "Did you make all of these modifications to the ship yourself? They're quite impressive."  
  
"I had a little help with the mechanics, but everything here's my design." Sexy Miyako's Seduction Secret #5: The best way of dealing with an unpredictable man is to ask him to do you a favor. "So, I take it you know a lot about flying?"  
  
"I know machines and computers moreso than the art of piloting, but my skill is adaquate."  
  
"So you're a genius with computers, then?"  
  
"Not really," he murmured, ears turning pink. "I've just worked with them practically all my life. There's nothing special about hard work."  
  
His attempt at modesty amused her; it was a little endearing, actually. "That's perfect!" she enthused. "Would you mind helping me out by running a systems check on the cargo bays?"  
  
"Performing a diganostic on the computer system of a vehicle in flight is a serious safety risk. Why are we even in the air if there's a problem? Certainly Lord Sora could have provided you with a suitable replacement ship."  
  
Oh, he was cute when he glowered.  
  
"First off," she said easily, "the difficulty I'm having is with maintaining thermal settings in the second cargo bay. Nothing's in there right now, so it's not really an issue." She had, in fact, already discovered the reason, but there hadn't been sufficient time to fix the problem. It would be interesting to see what sort of answer he could come up with. "And secondly," she paused to give him a mysterious smile, "_Bliss_ can go places many other ships can't."  
  
He took the bait. "Why's that?"  
  
"When people want something badly enough, they'll do anything to get it."  
  
"What do you transport?"  
  
"Oh, food, weapons, anything, everything."  
  
"And right now?"  
  
Her lips pressed together, the corners twitching up. "Trade secret."  
  
He harrumphed and gave her an odd, speculative look.  
  
Her mind crowed in triumph. He was hers now, he just didn't know it yet.  
  


* * *

  
Koushiro set to work on running the systems check, figuring that once he was busy, the weird woman would leave him alone. He had no such luck, though he was pleased he'd been able to get the information Hikari had requested from her. Shortly thereafter, Miyako's talk turned significantly more uncomfortable.  
  
"So, sugar, you gonna tell me what's going on between you and Mr. Gorgeous?"  
  
He glared at her. "You told me you couldn't hear us." He hadn't really believed her answer before and this new line of questioning wasn't doing anything to help her credibility.  
  
"I only need my eyes to see that you two don't exactly get along."  
  
"I don't want to talk about it," he said tensely, wanting the matter dropped. His feelings were his own business and she was having too much fun teasing him already.  
  
"I wouldn't be so quick to pass up the chance of talking about it with me. You happen to be sitting next to this country's foremost expert on male behavior."  
  
"And you have me so perfectly figured out," he remarked dryly, avoiding the offer again.  
  
She looked at him askance, a pretty smile lingering at the corners of her lush lips. When he found himself noticing that he'd just thought the adjective 'lush,' he busied himself with the console again.  
  
"I wouldn't say I _perfectly _have you figured out," she said. "Not yet, I don't... but I definitely wouldn't mind getting to know you better in the future, Koushiro."  
  
That brought his head back up. She'd dropped the 'sugar.' Something deep inside of him tightened unpleasantly as he found himself wondering if she was _flirting_ with him. Things like that simply didn't happen to him. He was imagining things. Taichi would know better...  
  
Taichi.  
  
What was he doing? What was he thinking? This was hardly the time to be contemplating... whatever this was... with Taichi captured and probably injured. He prayed to all the gods that his friend was still all right, knowing that he was trapped here, helpless, until they landed.  
  
She must've seen the change in his face or perhaps he'd spoken some of his thoughts aloud, for she did not press him to answer. Instead, she chattered on more about the bay they'd be landing in, providing a very good tactical survey and throwing in quick stories here and there that made him smile despite himself which included: run-ins with other traders (never her fault), mixed-up cargo deliveries (never her fault), spectacular trades where she wound up with the better end of the deal and the other party was never the wiser (always due to her quick and sparkling intellect and never luck... except the one time with the caviar).  
  
To his embarassment, she had to remind him of their impending landing. Koushiro found himself surprised that she had dropped her harassment of him so completely and that she had even managed to put him at ease for a time. Maybe he should have let her cajole him into talking about his problems with Yamato. She'd proved she could read him well enough. But as things stood, it was unlikely that they would cross paths again.  
  
He lingered for a moment, feeling like he should say something beyond 'Good bye,' but like always, the words never came.  
  


* * *

  
They were about to enter Kidou airspace. The brilliant man sitting next to Miyako was clearly unaware of that fact.  
  
"We're nearly there. ETA: 29 minutes. You should be going back to the others now," she said, not bothering to keep the regret from her voice.  
  
"Really?" He adjusted his glasses and looked out at the land flashing by and blushed. "Right. Thank you for the lift." He bowed. "Good bye."  
  
The gesture was so cutely formal. Miyako bowed from her seat, only partially mocking. "Safe journey."  
  
He nodded, almost said something, then left.  
  
A few moments passed in which Miyako was deeply annoyed that the red-head had to leave -- he'd just been starting to relax -- but then Hawkmon scrabbled out from behind the curtained area that held his perch and winged his way to his usual spot atop the co-pilot's chair.  
  
"He's Chosen," her partner said without preamble. "Actually, aside from the old man, they all are. And _he_ is something else altogether."  
  
Chosen? The entire group? But there was no reason to doubt her partner. He'd never lied to her.  
  
"Then Sora and Piyomon were right to warn us," she said. "It would be foolish for she and I both to put ourselves in danger. I'll talk with her and see what she thinks about trusting them... when she comes back." Miyako wouldn't allow herself to think there might be an 'if' in that plan.  
  
"Isn't it a little late if she dosen't trust them already?" Hawkmon asked.  
  
Miyako set her teeth on edge and exhaled a breath. "The possible reappearance of Taichi is altering her judgement. We'll know more after she sees him, or doesn't. There's still the possibility that this is a set-up."  
  
"You don't think Lady Hikari would lead Sora into a trap, do you?"  
  
"No, but if Hikari is being lured as bait for a bigger prize, say, Lord Yagami, Sora's safety could be endangered too."  
  
Hawkmon mantled a bit at this. "What are you thinking of doing?" Miyako knew he could see the gleam in her eye and know it for what it was.  
  
"I'm thinking of delaying my appointment with Lord Kitazawa to make sure they get out all right. If I'm here with _Bliss_, I can help with a diversion as they try to escape. If I'm in there with that slimy bastard, my hands will be tied... probably literally."  
  
"You need to stick to the plan, Miya. Let Sora handle this. You've done your part."  
  
"She's my friend, Hawkmon," Miyako said sharply.  
  
"You," he replied viciously, "won't be anyone's friend if you're caught and executed."  
  
She glared at him, then gave up with a sigh. "Fine. I'll stick to the plan. But you'll be staying here to monitor them and I expect a full report when I get back."  
  
"That is acceptable."  
  
"That is acceptable," she repeated, mimicking his peculiar upper-crust accent that he certainly didn't acquire in the Inoue aeries. "Bird brain," she said, getting away with the name-calling because she knew he wouldn't nip her when she was flying, though it didn't save her from his sharp tongue.  
  
"Uncouth fledgling."  
  
"Feather head," she retorted.  
  
"Contentious nestling."  
  
She threw him an evil look. "Scruffy buzzard."  
  
"Miyako," he warned, "do _not_ insult the feathers. You'd look this way too if you had to fly in and out of curtains several times a day. And I can't groom properly without making noise."  
  
She chuckled. It was too easy. "Easy, old friend. I'll buy you a new belt to make it up to you. How's that?"  
  
He sniffed, as much as a hawk could sniff.  
  
"That is acceptable."

* * *

Koushiro grumbled under his breath as they waited to exit the cargo ship. All his arguments about the formation of the rescue teams had been overridden and his mood was foul.  
  
"What was that?" Hikari asked him.  
  
"That pilot friend of Lord Sora's is something else," Koushiro snapped, then winced. He had to fix his attitude before it got them killed. He had to be completely focused.  
  
The girl gave him a look, but then her attention snapped to the hanger bay extending beyond the open cargo door. "Look around, Kou. Do you see the ship that took him?"  
  
"The _Zempi_." Koushiro scanned the large bay, grateful for Miyako's earlier descriptions of what he'd find and where. Closest to them on the U-shaped landing terrace were other high-class merchant ships. One workbay high off to the side of the room held an expensive cruiser that belonged to the Kidou family. He could see that the ship was undergoing some sort of modifications, though the other workbays were empty. The tier below their craft held smaller merchant ships and below that were three small wings of fighter ships. There weren't many, as the main Kidou fleet was housed elsewhere. These ships were just for show. The center of the room was an open jumble of workers and low-class ships a few runs away from the scrapheap.  
  
Hikari's gaze was following Koushiro's own and he could see her scanning through the chaotic pit.  
  
"I don't see it, so it's probably behind us, up there in the higher tiers with the other nobles' ships," he said in a hushed voice. Koushiro took up a probe and a datapad and strode confidently down _Bliss'_ ramp. Hikari followed. They stopped beneath the ship's nose and he plugged the dataprobe into the fluids port. Koushiro passed the datapad to Hikari to hold, then stepped away from the cover of the ship and stretched as he turned his eyes upwards. He held the pose a bit longer for show, then returned to the safety of the ship's cover. "I saw it," he murmured. "It's two tiers directly up from us, being refueled."  
  
Hikari disconnected the probe and tucked her cap more firmly down over her hair. She closed her eyes briefly. "Gennai's team is set. Let's go."  
  
Koushiro wasn't sure he understood (or even believed) Hikari's story of telepathy with her cat, but now was _not_ the time to be questioning her sanity. Not with a mission ahead of them.  
  
_Zempi_, they were banking on, would be their ticket out of here. Sora had filled him in on the eleven-fold bypass commands hard-wired into the ship. One of them had to still be active.  
  
It wasn't far from the cover of _Bliss_ to the lift that would carry them up to the next tier, but when they were halfway across that short distance the lights above them guttered wildly, then darkened. Koushiro froze in terror. Had they been spotted? Guards in night-vision goggles could come at any time now. He had to get Hikari back to the ship. She could hide there in the secret compartment Lord Sora had shown them.  
  
Machinery ground to a stop and an eerie hush crawled over the large hanger. A loud hum sounded and the red glow of emergency lighting filled the room and the enormous bay doors started to slide closed. But the red light lasted only briefly before it too expired and the doors scraped to a halt, still wide enough for a single ship to be piloted through. After a few more seconds, the emergency lights came back on, but the heavy doors remained still.  
  
Koushiro reached back in the dim light for Hikari to keep her close. A security team could come for them at any time.  
  
"SWEET FUCKIN' BASTARDS!" an angry voice above him exploded. "That's the FOURTH TIME today! We're TRYING to WORK here! Get your DAMN act together, you MUTANT FUCKHEADS!"  
  
As if that single voice had loosened a spell of silence, angry shouts were rising now from all over the bay -- most hollering similar expressions of frustration, though a small portion urged, in their own equally-rude way, for the others to shut up.  
  
Hikari cautiously eased apart from him. "I don't think this has anything to do with us, Kou."  
  
Ever wary, Koushiro strained his eyes against the dimness, searching for any movement coming toward them. "Maybe," he said. "Maybe not. But we can use it to our advantage." He reclaimed her hand and tugged her forward.  
  
Hikari hung back, an unmoveable force at the end of Koushiro's arm. "Are you safe? Find him yet?" she whispered.  
  
It took him a moment to process that she was contacting Yamato on the prototype auto-modulating transmitters Lord Sora had brought along.  
  
"Same here. Out." She bent her head closer to Koushiro's. "She said, 'Safe. No contact yet. Proceed.' I'm going to tell Salamon to have Gennai carry her in the pack. He'll have to climb up two tiers to get to _Zempi._" There was a pause. "They understand. I'll signal them when we've got the ship secured." Hikari reached for Koushiro's hand. "Let's go," she ordered.  
  
He gave her hand a stroke with his thumb, partly to comfort her, partly to soothe himself. "Be careful where you put your feet. Hoses are running across everywhere."  
  


* * *

  
Yamato waited tensely after Sora had put up her hand for silence in the dim glow of the emergency lighting. She spoke a brief reply into her transmitter for Hikari, then looked up at him.  
  
"So it wasn't them. Something else is going on here. I've got a bad feeling about this." She grabbed for the device Yamato held. "How much further to Taichi?"  
  
He held the thing out of her reach, being sure to keep it in line with his own body, and executed the program himself. Sora wasn't the only one to know how to work the device and he needed to be the one to see Taichi first. In the matter of a few seconds, numbers and a three-dimensional frame with two points flashed onto the screen. The image stayed even though the signal disconnected. Yamato brought it closer so they could both see.  
  
"We're not far off. He's 368 meters north-east of here and one, maybe two floors up, depending on how they built this place. He'll know we're coming now."  
  
"Or someone will," Sora muttered.  
  
Yamato let the comment slide. Hikari had wanted to trust the Lord, but Koushiro was adamant that she not be told Taichi was inside the Yagami suit -- just that it was possible the person being held captive was Taichi. As such, the Lord was reasonably dubious about Koushiro's locating device. A transponder and receiver were built into the Yagami mask and the small box Yamato now held was able to remotely activate it in short bursts to determine its location. Taichi would know they were on their way because an alarm sounded inside the mask whenever the transponder was activated. Explaining that to Sora, however, without explaining the Yagami suit had proved beyond any of their abilities.  
  
They moved on in silence. Yamato hated the way a fortress looked under emergency lighting -- everything was cast into a reddish hue and the shadows looked like dried blood. He had a vague intuition as to how the passages would flow, but what they had to be looking out for was a stairwell. They were unlikely to find one close by. Emergency situations were so rare that lifts were used almost exclusively and stairwells were reserved for areas with critical personnel only.  
  
He checked the signal again. Taichi was almost directly above them. "He's right here. We just need a way up."  
  
A lift mocked them from nearby. Sora punched at a the controls in anger. The buttons remained unlit.  
  
Yamato hesitated. "We could climb up through..." He and Sora were both shaking their heads. Neither of them wanted to be in the lift tube when the power came back on.  
  
"Let's keep looking," Sora growled.  
  
He racked his brain over the times he'd been in the Kidou Fortress. Where were they in relation to the building? The south-west section? What was over there?  
  
"The atrium," Yamato said. "This way."  
  
They didn't make it to the atrium, but as it turned out, they didn't have to. Surrounding the atrium's transparisteel walls, the fortress' levels ended in a dizzying stack of balconies. From there they could climb up to the next level. The move had a greater chance of being seen, though, and if they fell, the drop was long enough to kill them on impact. But there wasn't any other option.  
  
Yamato waved a hand at the lighting track running up a support column. A lightweight with expert balance would be able to scale it.  
  
"Ladies first."  
  
Lord Sora bared her teeth in response. All the same, she carefully gave him her backpack to hold and later, she offered Yamato a hand up as he clambered over the barrier to join her.  
  
The upper floor seemed to be a duplicate of the level below, so the pair had no difficulty in backtracking to the origin of Taichi's signal. Yamato checked the device, just to be sure.  
  
"He's here."  
  
This door however, unlike the one beneath them, was guarded by four uniformed men.  
  
"I'll take the two on the left, you take the bigger one on the right," Sora murmured. "We can pump the little one for information. On three. One."  
  
Yamato took aim at the larger of his targets.  
  
"Two."  
  
He said a prayer for the guards' souls. The highest level of stun on his weapon wouldn't give them enough time to get Taichi and flee.  
  
"Three."  
  
The instant he shot and struck the man in the face, Yamato rushed towards the smallest guard, pinning the man's hands to the wall. Sora was there, her weapon threatening, when the boy recovered enough to think about yelling or trying to kick free.  
  
"Don't even think about it," Lord Sora ordered. She grunted. "Since when did Kidou let children onto his security squadrons? Or are you some noble's brat?"  
  
The boy -- he was just a boy -- only whimpered.  
  
Yamato tried the keypad beside the door. It beeped a negative. Dammit! "What's the manual access code?" he demanded.  
  
More wimpering.  
  
Quicker than Yamato's eyes could follow, Sora's hand darted towards their captive's fingers. The boy screamed into the padding on Sora's forearm that she had shoved into his mouth to muffle the sound.  
  
"Tell us what we want to know and you can take a nice, long nap."  
  
The boy's eyes drifted towards the blaster and he blinked rapidly.  
  
"Not with that, with this," Sora said smoothly, pulling out a tranq dart. She gave the boy a look. "Keep your voice low."  
  
"They'll kill me anyway," he whispered, when she moved her arm away.  
  
"What's the manual override code?" Sora asked, repeating Yamato's words.  
  
"I don't know, I don't know," the boy sobbed. "The other guards were in charge. I was just watching. You were right. My father's just a rich noble. I'm not even supposed to be here. Owwwwwie," he whined, twisting his wrist.  
  
Yamato loosened his grip on the boy's injured hand and looked back at her.  
  
"Sora, maybe we should--"  
  
The boy's injured hand snaked out of his grasp and pain flared in Yamato's thigh.  
  
Blaster fire from Sora's weapon whizzed past Yamato's face. The boy's dead weight tugged on his closed grip and as he opened his fingers, the body tumbled to the floor.  
  
Yamato looked numbly at the knife sticking out of his thigh. It had happened so fast it didn't seem real. On the edge of his vision, Sora was moving, removing something from his backpack. She knelt down and looked over his leg.  
  
"You're lucky he was young and only half-trained. He decided to stab instead of slash and judging from the limited blood, he missed the femoral artery. You'd better hope I'm right. We don't have the supplies to take care of a nicked artery. This --" She plucked the knife out quickly. Yamato hissed in pain. "-- is going to hurt a bit."  
  
He glared at her, but said nothing as she dabbed at the wound.  
  
"Drop the pants," Sora ordered. "You're going to want a bandage on that until it can get looked at. Leaving a dripping trail of blood isn't the best way to travel undercover."  
  
Rather than reaching for his fly, Yamato held out his hand for the disinfectant swab and adhesive bandage patch. "I'll take care of it myself, thanks." She handed the them over without argument. "You knew about the kid."  
  
"I suspected," she answered  
  
"You're standing watch out here while I go in for him."  
  
"There could be more guards inside. We should both go."  
  
"The kid would've hollered if he'd had backup. You can come blazing in if I'm not out in five minutes."  
  
"Five minutes?" she questioned. Yamato could hear the smirk, even if he couldn't see it clearly. "What are you going to do in there for an entire five minutes?"  
  
"Just stand guard, Sora."  
  
She pursed her lips. "Okay. Five minutes."  
  
He touched the keypad to open the door. Nothing happened. He touched it again. Nothing. "The damn kid," Yamato said, looking down in dismay at the body, finally remembering why they'd wanted him alive.  
  
"The blasted codes," Sora muttered. "Step back around the corner over there. I'm going to blow the door."  
  
Yamato hastily backed away as the Lord gently set her backpack on the ground. Explosive compounds made him uneasy and he was happy to allow Sora to take care of the demolitions. "Right. Thanks." Hopefully Taichi had the sense and the ability to back away from the door when the transponder signal alerted him of their arrival.  
  
While Sora worked, Yamato eased his pants down to his knees. and set to work on his thigh. Sticky blood coated his left leg. He could see the line of the puncture wound on his inner thigh -- a black, dripping mark two finger-widths wide against the red of his pale skin under the emergency lighting. He cleaned the area only just enough to ensure that the patch would stick before slapping it in place and pocketing the swab. He tested his weight on the injured leg. Running wouldn't be pleasant. Walking might be okay, for a while at least.  
  
His fingers searched through his pack for pain killers, bypassing heavier grades in favor of a weaker type that would leave him alert.  
  
"How's the door coming, Sora?"  
  
Her sudden presence spooked him. "Nearly set." She thrust her pack at him. "Hold this. You can keep your position here. I'm only using enough to blow the lower panel to gain access to the manual latch."  
  
"Right." His fingers gripped the pack gingerly and he waited for the explosion.  
  
It came, a muffled sound, much quieter than he'd expected.  
  
Sora smirked. "It helps to know where to place the compound. If we're lucky, no one heard that. But we'll still have to move quickly. Those four probably had scheduled check-in times. With the fortress on emergency power like this, I don't know it that'll make things worse or better, but I'm betting on worse. We don't have a lot of time."  
  
As she spoke, her fingers fiddled with the innards of the door panel. Eventually, there was a soft snick and then Sora was putting her weight into moving the door aside. Yamato moved through the gap, wincing a bit at the pain in his leg. From what he could see of the room through the dim light, it held no guards. "It's clear," he reported back to Sora. "The room's empty, but there's another door. Stay here."  
  
He checked the locating device once more. Taichi was so close... less than 5 meters away.  
  
Yamato went to the second door and breathed a sign of relief when it opened at his touch. It was completely dark in the room, the only light coming from what little existed behind him.  
  
"Yagami, are you in here? Are you conscious?"  
  
As the silence following his words stretched, cold gripped Yamato's heart.  
  
He hoped Taichi was all right.  
  


* * *

“Yagami, are you in here?” he asked, using Taichi’s other name on the chance that someone might be listening. “Are you conscious?”  
  
As the silence following his words stretched, cold gripped Yamato’s heart.  
  
He hoped Taichi was all right.  
  


* * *

  
Salamon guided Gennai as best she could from her vantage point on his shoulder. Her feline eyes could see well in the dark, but this half-light, red as blood, threw her off. The shadows were all wrong and worry for her Chosen gnawed at her.  
  
~Hikari? What’s your status?~  
  
~Kou and I have reached the ship. He’s attempting to hack his way in, but it’s slow going, even with the equipment Lord Sora brought and the backdoor codes she showed him. I - Oh, shit.~  
  
Salamon waited, agonizing seconds, not wanting to distract her Chosen if there was trouble. Hikari’s mind held worry, but no pain. Not yet.  
  


* * *

  
Mimi followed Lord Jyou through the red-lit halls. She carried his pack for him while he held his weapon in one hand and her hand in the other. They were headed for the ship bay, he’d told her, and she’d guessed as much from the conversation he’d held with his brother.  
  
Lord Shun, the twin who had helped her redecorate Lord Jyou’s rooms, frightened her less than Lord Shin, but he was still scary. Lord Jyou seemed to trust him though, and that was enough for Mimi.  
  
They came to a wide dark area, the bay, and Lord Jyou turned back to her, finally dropping her hand. She ached at the loss of his touch.  
  
He looked at her over the rims of his glasses, dark eyes worried, then raised his hand to let fingers fall through her hair and caress her cheek. She couldn’t stop the tremble of excitement as he pulled her to him and she opened herself under his lips. He claimed her with such intensity, such need, it brought tears to her eyes. He only kissed like this when he was saying goodbye.  
  
Lord Jyou pulled away, eyes anguished. She did her best to smile up at him.  
  
“It’s okay. You go. You need to go. I know that.”  
  
She watched as he swallowed back pain and she ached for him.  
  
“It’s all right,” she tried again, voice barely a whisper.  
  
He clutched her to him. “If you stay, if you go, you’re not safe either way. I’m so sorry, my flower. This is all my fault.”  
  
She bit her lip to keep from crying and found the courage somewhere inside to tease him at such a moment. “Yes, it’s entirely your fault people want to kill you, my Lord.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’ve never met a man as good as you are.”  
  
“Mimi,” he breathed, pulling her even closer. He kissed her again, this time on the crown of her head. “This is your last chance to stay behind. It might be - “  
  
“With you. Only with you. We don’t have time for doubts. Take me with you. Please. I need you.”  
  
“I need you, too, little flower.” His embrace was tight. He was afraid. So afraid. Not for himself, but for her. “May Mother guide us.”  
  
She could see him, so clearly in the flashing red lights... Mimi pushed up on her toes to kiss him breathless. “We’ll be okay. You can do this. I believe in you.”  
  
He pressed a final kiss to her forehead and bopped her sternly on the nose. “Stay close behind me, little minx. No heroics.”  
  


* * *

Jyou started for _Zenpi_, nearly stopping short as he saw two dark figures — guards, probably — duck away from the entrance to the ship. He didn’t think they were gone entirely, maybe just hiding, but time was ticking onward and he didn’t have much of it left. Shun had kept the distractions going for over four hours and security was thinner now than it had been, but his older brother could only keep the guards chasing shadows for so long. It was now or never.  
  
He shifted his grip on the blaster gun. He wouldn’t like it, but he could take out two men if he had to.  
  
They crossed the decking quickly, Mimi amazing him with her speed and stealth. She was everything he’d ever dreamed of. Living without her wasn’t an option.  
  
He approached the ship, but there was no sign of the guards. He waited with his back turned, weapon in his hand, but still they did not come. Finally, he began keying in the door code. A soft tap of a footstep was all the warning he had.  
  
“Don’t move,” a man’s voice growled. The blaster was pulled from his grip.  
  
“Don’t turn around. And no screaming,” a young woman’s voice added.  
  
Jyou did as he was told. Screaming for help would just bring more guards.  
  
“Good,” the man said. “Now finish opening the door and go inside.”  
  
Mimi was behind him, between him and whoever had them in their sights. “Please don’t hurt her,” he begged.  
  
“You’ll both be safe if you do as we say,” the woman said.  
  
“Step through the doors,” the man ordered.  
  
Jyou went, advancing far enough for them to follow him inside. He heard the door whoosh shut. A terrified whimper escaped from Mimi’s lips.  
  
“Let me turn around, please,” he pleaded. He had to see. He had to see she was all right.  
  
“I can see you’ve got a knife at your side. Set it down slowly, stand up even slower, then turn around even slower than that,” the man directed.  
  
“All right. Of course. Just don’t hurt her.”  
  
“Follow our orders and she’ll be fine,” the woman’s voice assured him.  
  
Jyou’s mind was working at a furious pace. These couldn’t be Shin’s soldiers. They would’ve killed Mimi on sight. They wouldn’t be striking bargains with him. He did as he was told, then slowly turned around, eyes widening as he understood and didn’t all in the same breath.  
  
It was impossible. He’d seen her only once before, years ago... but her face was unmistakable in _Zenpi’s _clear lighting. It was Lord Yagami’s daughter, a girl even younger than Mimi. He searched his mind for her name.  
  
“You’re... Hikari?”  
  


* * *

  
  
~Hikari, you and I are going to have a chat about the proper way to suddenly conclude a conversation. Especially when I can’t see what’s going on.~ Despite her annoyance, Salamon was glad her Chosen was safe. ~We’ll be at your position in a few minutes. Try not to get into any more trouble until I get there, okay?~  
  
~Right. Don’t worry so much. They’re behaving themselves. Lord Jyou’s as whimpy as Taichi’s said and his slave’s got the initiative of a doll. I don’t think we’d have been able to take control of any other pair. But these two were just hopeless.~  
  
~Well, keep alert. We don’t know why they were skulking around, do we?~ Hikari sent an affirmative. ~So keep a sharp lookout and have Koushiro run the flight checks. We may need to leave sooner than we thought if young Lord Jyou is in trouble too.~  
  
~Roger that. You be careful too. I’ll update Lord Sora on our situation in the meantime.~  
  
~Be safe, Hikari.~  
  
Gennai was slowly crawling up the ladder. Salamon wasn’t sure how much of it was his attempt at caution and how much was his frailty. When they finally made it to the ship, a mental call to Hikari had the ship’s door opening.  
  
Salamon jumped down from Gennai’s shoulder and bounded through the doorway and up into Hikari’s arms. Gennai followed her into the ship more slowly and Piyomon dove through an instant later.  
  
They were rushing though flight preparations when the door opened again.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Yagami?” the man’s voice asked again. It didn’t sound like one of the men from before.  
  
Taichi’s arms were cuffed behind him and his lower limbs were bound into a kneeling position and attached to the floor. He stayed quiet. If something bad were going to happen, it would happen whether or not he spoke.  
  
He chanted the reminder to say nothing over and over in his mind, steeling himself against whatever they were going to do. He expected more questions, but instead, he found himself closing his eyes and turning his head aside as he was engulfed in a horribly bright light.  
  
“Yagami,” the man’s voice breathed.  
  
A clatter, and then the dropped light illuminated a body clothed all in black. Just looking at the torso told Taichi who it was.  
  
“Yamato,” Taichi whispered, though the sound did not pass through the metal lips. Yamato had come for him. Taichi tongued the keys that would allow his natural voice through. It had hurt, being unable to apologize earlier. “Yamato, I’m so sorry.”  
  
The light was picked back up. “Are you being watched right now?”  
  
“Um. I don’t think so. I might’ve been, but not now with the power out. It got dark and Shin left almost as soon as he arrived. I’m sorry Yamato, for everything. Really."  
  
The light flashed lower on Taichi’s body, lingering over the restraints, then Yamato let the instrument drop to the floor again. The reflected glow was just barely bright enough to make out Yamato’s carefully neutral expression.  
  
Would Yamato free him? Was he part of a rescue? Was Koushiro here? Taichi didn’t dare ask. Yamato had come and Taichi savored the hope filling him, but because Yamato_ was_ here, Taichi had to make him believe. It was more important than escaping, more important than everything, and that scared him a bit. Still, his courage didn’t fail him.  
  
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he tried. “I wanted to tell you the truth.”  
  
“I didn’t come here to hear that.” Yamato stood over him, his frozen expression unchanging. “Are you hurt?”  
  
Taichi knew he was risking his secret being exposed, but he tongued the lock and another sequence of buttons anyway. The metal casing split in half and Taichi looked up at his rescuer as the mask opened up around his face. “Yamato, I’m sorry.”  
  
The mask was removed the rest of the way.  
  
Yamato’s hands, sticky with something dark, came up and brushed against Taichi’s cheeks. Gentle fingertips, smelling of blood, glossed over his face, down the bridge of his nose, across his forehead, over the delicate skin of his throat, and back through his sweaty hair, almost as if the blond were checking to make sure Taichi was all there.  
  
Yamato’s face and voice remained impassively masked. “Are you hurt?”  
  
But that wasn’t really the question. Taichi was fine. It was Yamato who’d been hurt, who’d had to suffer for weeks. And he had still come to Taichi’s rescue.  
  
“Yamato, I’m so—”  
  
From the darkness, a pale fist made a sudden and painful impact into the side of Taichi’s face. “Are. You. Hurt?” Yamato asked again, spacing out the words. There was emotion in his voice now, but Taichi couldn’t tell which one.  
  
“No. They didn’t hurt me,” Taichi said, not understanding. The sick fear that perhaps Yamato was there to hurt him, as Shin’s guest, crept into his mind. Then again, Yamato had the right to do whatever he wanted. Taichi owed him this much. He let his head fall down in submission. “What are you going to do?”  
  
Yamato roughly plopped the mask back on Taichi’s head before stepping back. “Nothing, for the moment. You, though, are going to close that mask up before our pal, Lord Sora, comes in here.”  
  
“Sora, here? How? “  
  
“Hikari told her that there was a chance that Taichi was alive in order to allow us passage across her territory. Sora insisted on coming along.”  
  
“But she’ll be expecting to see me, not Yagami.”  
  
“Exactly. We didn’t tell her the secret. She’ll be pissed to see Yagami, but she won’t make a fuss until later... I hope.”  
  
Sora. They’d been good friends, once, when they were younger. He trusted her, but Taichi was the one being rescued and the final decision wasn’t his.  
  
“Yamato, you’ve seen her more recently. Do you trust her?” he asked.  
  
“Me?”  
  
“Yes.” He trusted Yamato’s judgement. “Do you think she’ll be able to handle this?”  
  
Yamato was quiet for a moment. “I do. We wouldn’t have been able to get to you without her. I’m not sure how much time we have, though. If you tell her the whole truth, she’s going to want an explanation for all the years you’ve been gone.” He harshly forced Taichi’s chin up so that they were eye-to-eye. “Actually, I’ve been expecting one of those myself, you bastard. Everyone thought Yagami’s son was dead.”  
  
Taichi winced. But the best he could do was tackle one hurdle at a time.  
  
It had been so long since he’d seen Sora as himself. She loathed Yagami and had never stayed long in his presence. Probably in order to keep her temper in check and not, inadvertently, start a war. If she was the same as the girl he remembered from their childhood, he trusted her to carry his secret.  
  
“Bring her in.”  
  


* * *

  
  
“Sora,” Yamato’s voice called to her from the door behind her. “He’s here. His legs and arms are bound, though. Can you take care of it?”  
  
“I’ll see what I can do,” she said, her voice coming out much calmer than she felt. Her stomach was roiling with nerves. Taichi was alive!  
  
He winced away as she let the light fall on his face. He was paler than she remembered, but who knew where he’d been since his death had been announced. She let the light drop to shine over the rest of him.  
  
Yagami.  
  
Taichi was dressed like Yagami. She brought the harsh penlight back up, not caring that Taichi closed his eyes in pain at the brightness. He was wearing Yagami’s mask, the sides of it parted and open to show his face.  
  
“Sora,” he said, squinting through barely-cracked lashes, “I can explain, but now’s not the best time. Please?”  
  
Memories from a childhood long ago mingled with the fresher past. How long had this been going on? The information was there for her to demand. Taichi was at her mercy.  
  
But that was the problem, wasn’t it? He _was_ at her mercy. He needed her help.  
  
She let her hand rest on his temple. “Are you okay?”  
  
For some reason, this made Taichi chuckle, but he sobered quickly. “I’m fine.”  
  
“I missed your laugh, Taichi.” The man said nothing and Sora left him to his silence. Maybe his throat was tight like hers. “Hold still,” she said, voice thicker than she’d like. “I’m going to get your legs free.”  
  
“Guys?” Hikari’s soft voice crackled through Sora’s headset, breaking her concentration as she worked on the electronic lock. “We’re in trouble here.”  
  
Trouble came in different degrees. What kind of trouble had found Hikari’s team? Sora needed facts before the situation worsened.  
  
“Status. What’s your position?”  
  
Yamato ducked back into the room, picking up on the alarm in her words. His dark shape was backlit by the red glow from the door. “What’s going on?”  
  
Sora waved him off. The girl was taking too long to answer. “Report. Are you injured?”  
  
“Ohhhh, it’s nothing _too_ life-threatening, I imagine,” a strong male voice spoke.  
  
Yamato must have caught the look on her face, for now he looked anxious. “What’s happening to Hikari?” he demanded, barely remembering to keep his volume low.  
  
“You brought my sister here?!” Taichi growled, twitching around and struggling against his restraints. “What’s going on? Tell me what’s happened!”  
  
Sora clapped a hand over Taichi’s mouth and glared Yamato into silence.  
  
“I do suggest,” the voice continued, “whoever you are, if you want to collect this little one alive, you come to my ship, _Zenpi_, in the southern docking bay. You have fifteen minutes. Good bye.”  
  
Sora swallowed. “Hikari’s found the twins’ ship, but someone else’s there too. From the smug attitude, I’d say one of the twins. I don’t know about the others. He said we had fifteen minutes to get there.”  
  
Yamato swore. “They were supposed to be careful!”  
  
Taichi’s breath was heavy and panicked. “Shin has Hikari? No. Gods, no!” He renewed his struggles. “Get me out of these! Now!”  
  
“Hold still, then,” Sora urged, holding her own composure. Panic and fear were liabilities no one could afford in a crisis. Taichi ignored her and tried to snap the metal by forcing his legs apart. He might have been able to do it, but success would be dangerous, if not deadly.  
  
“Stop struggling, Taichi, unless you want to lose your legs. I have to disarm the mechanism before the bands can be severed.”  
  
“Well, hurry it up. Hikari’s in trouble.” The growled order came from Yamato, not Taichi.  
  
Sora held her tongue and worked until she bypassed the lock’s circuitry.  
  
“There. Now, _calmly_, we need to get to that hangar bay. Thinking up another plan along the way would be nice, if anybody feels up to it.”  
  
Clearly, she had no idea what she was getting herself into when she’d agreed to come along.  
  
Someone owed her a big explanation when this was all over.  
  
... if they were still alive.  
  


* * *

  
  
After the quietest argument Taichi had ever participated in, they agreed to enter _Zenpi_ together. Taichi, in the Yagami mask, entered first as the bodysuit offered him the most physical protection and psychological advantage. But if the Kidou twin was surprised to see Yagami, he kept it hidden.  
  
“Welcome to the party, High Lord.”  
  
Taichi’s borrowed weapon was up and aimed before he could consciously think about it.  
  
“Easy now,” the twin cautioned. He had one arm around Hikari, who he brought in front of him as a shield with an arm about her waist. His other hand held a gun pointed at Koushiro.  
  
Sora and Yamato stepped in behind him, weapons also at the ready. In a corner, Lord Jyou quickly moved to block them from a slave girl. “You won’t hurt her,” he said. The words came out more like a plea than a firm command, but Taichi gave him credit for the sentiment. He kept the weapon aimed at the twin.  
  
“I don’t care what you do with your slut. I want my daughter.” There was enough malice into his voice to make Hikari look at him in alarm. She didn’t see him in action as Yagami very often. He hoped she would keep a level head. She and Koushiro were still in great danger.  
  
The threat — Lord Shun or Lord Shin, Taichi couldn’t tell which — was in the middle of the cabin. Hikari didn’t seem to be in any pain, but her position as the twin’s captive assured that her well-being could change in a fraction of a second. Koushiro was across the room, his weapon on the floor a long distance away. Koushiro hadn’t spared their arrival more than a fleeting glance, he kept his attention on Hikari and the twin.  
  
“Daughter? Well, well,” the Kidou Lord said. “These two I didn’t recognize, but these three I do. High Lord Yagami, the prodigal Lord Yamato, and — quite the surprise — the vivacious Lady Sora.”  
  
“That’s Lord Sora, to you,” she said, voice cool.  
  
The twin favored her with a courtly smile. “As you wish, Lord. I can almost figure out this strange puzzle. Was it you was my brother playing with? But then why would High Lord Yagami come to your aid? And Lord Yamato... I had heard rumor that you were, shall we say, _absent_ from your father’s presence. I find myself curious. How do Lord Yagami’s boots taste?”  
  
Yamato rose to the challenge and took a menacing step forwards, but stayed calm. “Let her go, Shun. Your brother and his pet are good for nothing. You’re outnumbered.”  
  
“So arrogant,” the twin chided. “How do you know that I was not already in audio contact with my men before you arrived?”  
  
“Because you’re nervous,” Yamato returned. “I’ve seen you at your game enough to know all about your little eye-twitch.” Taichi looked and so it was... a slight periodic jump in the Lord’s right eyebrow.  
  
This twin didn’t seem quite as insane as Shin had been when Taichi had seen him briefly during the failed interrogation. If it really was Shun, they had a chance.  
  
“I don’t know why you didn’t call in a security team,” Yamato continued, “but they had plenty of time to get here before we did. Which makes me think, for some unfathomable reason, they’re not coming. You’re on your own.”  
  
Shun seemed disinclined to respond to Yamato’s theory and so a trigger-choking silence stretched...  
  
Someone needed to make a move, but Taichi had been adamant in their rapid planning session that the others do nothing that might cause harm to Hikari. That meant _he_ would need to be the one to take action. There was time for one shot, but, it would have to be made without the benefit of the weapon’s sight guide. And he couldn’t risk it. His weapon had been set to stun, but certainly, the twin’s wasn’t.  
  
The tense standoff was broken by the grinding sound of the outer hull door opening and a male’s loud, annoyed voice.  
  
“Where the hell do you think you left it?”  
  
“I think -” A uniformed man — the one Taichi had bought years ago, the one who had given him water only hours ago on the ship — swung around the corner of the cabin entrance. He took one look at them and bellowed, “Hun-TER!”  
  
A second person — the kidnaping force’s leader, a man Taichi had also purchased as a slave — immediately appeared, weapon drawn. He looked to the Kidou men. “Lords,” he acknowledged tensely, shifting his aim to fall on Yamato when he realized he’d been aiming at those vastly superior.  
  
In the moment’s distraction, Koushiro had rolled across the floor and reclaimed his lost blaster. “You,” he growled at the newcomers. “Greene. Hunter. The two of you were behind all this.”  
  
“Sorry, sir,” the younger fighter said. “Just following orders.”  
  
“His orders?” Koushiro asked with a nod to Shun. “What about _my_ orders? We took a chance on you both and you betrayed us. I should shoot you where you stand.”  
  
Taichi shivered, grateful the suit shielded his reaction to Koushiro’s coldly murderous intent.  
  
Hunter, the squad leader, changed his aim to target Koushiro. “Greene didn’t have a choice, Sir. Neither of us did.”  
  
“Oh, you had a choice, all right,” Koushiro retorted, eyes burning. Taichi had never seen his friend like this before — angry and seeking revenge. Granted, nobody had ever abducted him before. And Koushiro was loyal. “You had a choice,” he repeated. “Just like I have one now.”  
  
Enough.  
  
“In this moment, you have a choice,” Taichi spoke up in Yagami’s dark voice, “to follow _my_ orders, or to leave my service... which, I do not recommend as the results would be very, very messy and I doubt the Kidou siblings would want the floors of this magnificent craft ruined.”  
  
Koushiro’s eyes tracked over to him.  
  
“Lower your weapon,” Taichi commanded as Yagami.  
  
“Respectfully, High Lord, I’ll stand down when Lady Hikari is safe.” He shifted his aim to Lord Shun. “Let her go.”  
  
“I admire you as a leader,” Hunter said, targeting Koushiro, “but I cannot allow you to harm Lord Kidou. Greene.”  
  
Reluctantly, the younger man moved into a flanking position and took aim at Sora. Taichi was quickly losing control of the situation. By rights, Yagami should have fired upon Koushiro for his disobedience, and shifting to cover Sora, like Taichi wanted to do, was out of the question entirely. Sora solved that matter, though, by slipping out a much smaller weapon and aiming it at Greene with her off-hand, even while keeping her main weapon pointed at Shun.  
  
Hikari’s quiet laughter spilled out into the small space. All eyes turned towards her, though nobody shifted their weapon from their target. Taichi’s heart was pounding in his chest. If someone fired at her, there was no way for him to shield her in time. She apparently wanted everyone’s attention. Now that she had it, he could only hope his sister knew what she was doing.  
  
“Can everyone _please_ put the guns down?” Hikari asked. Her expression shifted to one he frequently saw when she was lecturing him. “You all do realize how silly this looks, right? You all know each other and none of you really wants to shoot. There are better ways to solve this.”  
  
Glances were exchanged.  
  
Greene slowly grinned back at her. “Right you are, Lady Hikari,” he said, using his hand to lower his partner’s muzzle. Sora followed suit, followed by a grudging Koushiro, and shortly thereafter by an intrigued Lord Kidou. The Kidou twin set her free, but retained her hand, which he raised to his lips for a courtly kiss.  
  
“Lord Shun of Kidou at your service. No hard feelings I hope, m’ Lady,” he murmured against her skin. His touch lingered on her for far too long before he finally released her and turned a piercing look on Taichi. “Lord Yagami, whatever possessed you to bring your lovely young daughter on such an unofficial trip?”  
  
That comment roused the protective older brother in him and he nearly raised his weapon again. “My daughter is my own business, boy. You would be fortunate to remember that.”  
  
Shun smirked. “I’ve forgotten myself, Lord. Do forgive me.” His eyes flicked over their small group. “I have also seemed to have forgotten why, exactly, your presence graces us.”  
  
Taichi smiled behind the mask. Shun’s tone was mocking, but not entirely — there was still a modicum of fear and respect. Yagami was, after all, a cruel bastard and old enough to be Shun’s father. There was still a chance they’d get out of this yet.  
  
Shun wasn’t part of the Yagami kidnaping plot. Of that much, Taichi was sure. He might not have noticed the man’s nervous tick over the years, but he had noticed that while the younger of the Kidou twins spoke the pleasant courtly lies, he did not do so when unnecessary. He certainly would never feign total ignorance. The operation leader, Hunter, had confirmed Taichi’s guesses with his expression when he first entered the cabin. Lordling Jyou’s involvement was also out of the question. Although... the youngest Kidou was playing quite the gallant defender in front of his pet. It was possible he truly cared for the slave girl.  
  
All this took mere seconds for Taichi’s alert mind to process. Lord Shun’s question remained. The part of his brain in charge of the Yagami persona smoothly fed the words to his mouth.  
  
“I merely wished to reclaim my rightful property,” Taichi said, putting a proprietary arm about Yamato’s waist and praying that the blond didn’t try to kill him. To his immense surprise, Yamato straightened and actually shifted half a step closer, fixing the elder Kidou with a look of smug threat. “As you can see,” Taichi continued, grateful for the voice modulator that had been calibrated to countermand stress-induced voice changes, “Your brother’s attempt to exploit a seemingly weak link has failed.”  
  
“Is that so?” Shun mused, his eyes darting to the two uniformed men in the doorway.  
  
“Yes, Lord. Lord Shin bade us capture him and bring him here for questioning,” the younger of the pair answered. Hunter nodded his agreement to the lie by omission. Taichi had judged them correctly, then.  
  
Sora stepped forward.  
  
“It is a grievous insult for one High House to attack another, Lord Shun. I am here to bear witness for High Lord Yagami in my mother’s absence. It would be in your best interests to allow us to leave quietly. This ship, which you and your brothers share, has just been serviced and is of worthy caliber to return us to our homes. After which, the ship would be returned to you.” She raised her eyebrow. “Not alone, of course. The airways can be dangerous and yours is too valuable a ship. It would have an escort of... a Halcyon-class Takenouchi cruiser? I trust you could find some use for the vehicle if you did not wish to keep it for yourself.”  
  
Taichi’s breath caught. The ship they were currently on was very expensive, an elite class affordable only by Lords. Halcyon armored cruisers were worth three times as much and were categorically not for sale.  
  
Shun’s eyes glittered.  
  
No one questioned Lord Sora’s offer. Even in a tense situation such as this, if a Lord offered a ship in exchange for cooperation, a ship would be delivered.  
  
_Honor among thieves_, Taichi thought with twisted humor.  
  
“My brother here,” Shun motioned towards Jyou, “was planning on a vacation. Your proposal would be acceptable if he and his pet are dropped off at the location of his choice.”  
  
Sora remained quiet, deferring to Taichi’s supposed seniority.  
  
“Done,” Taichi said, brushing Yamato aside and stepping forward to shake hands with Lord Shun, taking care to place himself between Shun and Hikari. He nodded towards the pair of uniformed men. “These two can pilot the ships back, if you prefer.”  
  
Hesitation and not a few meaning-laden glances ruled and Taichi got the feeling that he’d missed something important. Then Hunter spoke sharply, breaking the tension.  
  
“With respect, High Lord, that is not possible. We are Lord Shin’s men. It would be inappropriate for us to carry out such a task.”  
  
“Like hell,” the younger man said. He stepped forward to address Shun. “Lord, your brother holds our comrades and their families as token for our continued obedience.”  
  
Hunter firmly pulled him back. “Be silent! The Lord is in no position to guarantee their safety.”  
  
“What is their location?” Shun asked.  
  
Hunter maintained a stony countenance. The man next to him shrugged helplessly. It made sense. Greene had been purchased first, he probably did not know where the group was being kept.  
  
Everyone was surprised when Lord Jyou stepped away from his pet. “Where are they being held, soldier?"  
  
“This room holds several powerful people,” Lord Sora observed. “A smart man would cautiously accept help when it is offered.”  
  
Greene touched his leader’s arm. “Please, Hunter.”  
  
Hunter looked close to breaking, but then his resolve firmed and he shook his head. He addressed Taichi. “There are numerous other choices, Lord Yagami. Why do you want us?”  
  
Why? Because they’d treated him fairly when he’d been held prisoner. However, Lord Shun was operating under the theory that Yamato had been Shin’s target.  
  
“You showed talented restraint in your attack on the Yagami fortress,” Koushiro answered, speaking from the pilot’s seat. “You extracted your target without taking a single life, when it would have been easier to do otherwise. Your skills should be rewarded.”  
  
Taichi nodded Yagami’s agreement. He wanted to talk to the men, even more so now that he’d learned of their surgical strike. The nightmares that plagued him with images of a ruined fortress would not dissolve easily, but at least he had knowledge of his people’s safety to comfort him.  
  
“If these facts are true, your abilities are indeed impressive,” Shun said. “Would you consider working for me? I would aid in the transfer of your group from wherever they’re being held to an undisclosed location of your choosing. I do not need to threaten women and children to hold the respect of the men I command.”  
  
“Hunter, _please?"_  
  
The older man shrugged off his comrade. “Those of my people who wish to remain with me will stay on as the Halcyon’s crew.”  
  
Lord Shun raised a brow. “Your people have the experience necessary to fly her?”  
  
“There’s a reason Lord Shin went to great lengths to keep us as his dogs,” the younger man said. “We’re the best.”  
  
“Ensure that my younger brother reaches his destination safely, return with the ships, and I’ll have a test mission ready for you. Execute it perfectly and you may stay with the Halcyon.”  
  
“What sort of mission?” Hunter asked, ignoring his enthusiastic, bouncing teammate.  
  
Lord Shun smiled. “You won’t tell me where your people are being held. The natural solution is for you to extract them yourselves.”  
  
“The team I had with me to fly _Zenpi_ isn’t large enough to crew a Halcyon during battle.”  
  
“I’ll see that you have what you need. The details can be worked out upon your return.”  
  
“How do I know you’ll keep your word?”  
  
Shun smiled. “My dear brother thinks too highly of himself. Taking away his toy soldiers is an adequate punishment for him and a bonus to me if they are as well-trained as has been claimed.”  
  
“A message sent to Takenouchi or Yagami,” Sora added, “should clear any of Lord Shun’s memory problems if they arise.”  
  
“Then we are agreed, Sir,” Hunter said, snapping a salute. His partner mimicked him, a large grin on his face.  
  
Lord Shun returned the gesture solemnly, then glanced at his chronometer.  
  
“I’ll have this vessel cleared for flight in half an hour.”  
  
In the wake of the Lord’s departure, an uneasy quiet filled the ship. Hunter searched their faces, then focused on Taichi, perceiving High Lord Yagami to be the power to address.  
  
“With your permission, Greene and I will remain here and await Lord Shun’s signal.”  
  
“Acceptable. My security chief will also stay to monitor your progress.”  
  
Taichi motioned for Koushiro to stay and waved the rest of the crowd out of the cockpit. Hikari stayed behind, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. He tongued the mask’s volume to a lower level, cautious of their unknown surroundings, and addressed the two mercenaries.  
  
“I want to thank you for your discretion earlier.”  
  
The older man was unreadable, but the younger had sharp, knowing eyes.  
  
“Most men have secrets,” Greene said slowly. “You, more than most.”  
  
“If you have need of anything, name it,” Taichi offered.  
  
Hunter glared reprovingly at his partner. “What kind of idiot tries to blackmail a High Lord?”  
  
Greene smiled impishly. “I don’t know. What kind?”  
  
“A _dead_ one,” Hunter ground out. “My apologies, Lord Yagami. He did not mean to threaten you.”  
  
Greene paled. “But I wasn’t trying — I was just... stating the obvious.”  
  
“No harm done,” Taichi broke in, amused. “I didn’t perceive it as a threat. Explaining how I came to be the target, not Yamato, would have been most inconvenient. My offer of assistance to you both still stands.”  
  
Hunter looked him in the eyes. Taichi could only imagine what the man thought he was seeing as the mask was completely expressionless and the mirrored eyeports could reveal nothing.  
  
But Hunter nodded anyway, as if having something confirmed. “If you’re the kind of man I think you are, then just keep on doing what you’re doing. That’ll be payment enough.”  
  
It would have been a profound moment, but Greene interrupted with his pouting. “But!" he broke off the forming complaint and whispered rapidly into Hunter’s ear.  
  
Hunter snorted. “It’s on your head.” He left and sat in the secondary control chair, busying himself with the instrument panel.  
  
“I take it you want something?” Taichi asked.  
  
“Two things?” Greene was all innocent smiles. “I’ll need Sir Koushiro’s help on this.”  
  
Taichi snorted too, inside the mask, but he said nothing. He was becoming curious about this Hunter. How the older man had fallen under the sway of his much more exuberant younger partner seemed to be an interesting story. Koushiro approached at Taichi’s signal.  
  
“So, there’s a bet going on among the guards,” Greene began. “You, uh, know about that already, right?”  
  
Taichi looked to Koushiro. The red-head shrugged and asked, “Which one?”  
  
“The Kemari pot. Can you let me know who wins? You don’t need to send any money, but I’d like to know what happens.”  
  
“Give Koushiro your contact information and he’ll see you get beamed the results. And the second thing?”  
  
“_Saberslash_’s fourteenth level has been taking forever. I’ve never seen that game anywhere else before joining the guards and it’s brilliant. Can you track it down and send it to me once it’s released?”  
  
Taichi snickered inside the mask. Koushiro was the creative genius behind the computer game. He’d fallen behind on developing more of it because he was convinced, despite all evidence to the contrary, people didn’t like it. Taichi let his friend field this one.  
  
“It might take a while, but I think that can be arranged,” Koushiro said, visibly irked.  
  
“We might even be able to send you out level fifteen when it’s ready, too,” Taichi put in.  
  
Koushiro looked at him murderously, but then realized who Taichi was supposed to be and where they were. “Of course, Lord,” he amended smoothly. “As you command. I will see to the ship’s security measures now.”  
  
With a pride-stiffened spine, Koushiro stalked back to the pilot's seat and began making preparations. Taichi laid a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"See to it that whatever happens on this flight remains private. Let me know when you've disabled all the necessary security systems."  
  
"Understood, High Lord."  
  
Taichi nodded and left the three men to their work, Hikari at his heels.  
  
The cabin door closed behind them and he wrapped her up in his arms. She burrowed into his hold and he was struck by the thought of how close he'd come to losing her, of how close she'd been to losing him.  
  
The cameras probably weren't disabled yet and everybody in the main room could see them, but it didn't matter. He didn't care what anybody thought or what it would look like. He held his sister close.  
  


* * *

 

While the others busied themselves with other things, Sora slowly digested what Piyomon had just chattered quietly into her ear. They were Chosen -- Taichi, Hikari, Yamato, the pilot, Jyou, the slave girl -- _all_ of them, save for the two soldiers. Hikari had been claimed by the cat, but the spirits of the others sung out to Piyomon... and any other digimon that might come near. Kalisto had urged Sora to come on this rescue and she wondered what, if anything, the old woman knew.  
  
Taichi and Hikari had disappeared after the pilot announced the completion of the security check and that he'd killed all audio/visual links to the back rooms. Although Sora had planned on giving the brother and sister as much time as they needed, Piyomon's revelation changed things. She knocked once on the door, then entered what turned out to be a small office space.  
  
Taichi was conversing quietly with his sister and while his face and emotions were obscured by the Yagami mask, Hikari's were easy to read. She was earnestly trying to convince her brother of something. There was a pause in their conversation as Sora approached, but in the end, the masked head nodded and he motioned Hikari away.  
  
The girl, jaw set in determination, nodded at Sora as she left.  
  
Sora sat down in the vacated seat next to Taichi, still not able to make her mind match the recent memory of Yagami's behavior with her childhood memory of Taichi's gentle spirit. Here, in the privacy of the office, she dared to touch the side of his cold metal mask, just where his cheek would be.  
  
"How long?" she asked, furious with herself for letting her voice waver.  
  
A small opening appeared between the mask's lips and she heard Taichi sigh.  
  
"Sora," he said in his own voice, "we trust you to stay quiet about me being Yagami, but... things might be easier on you if you knew less."  
  
"Easier. Easier, compared to what? The fact that Hikari's Chosen?" she countered. "That you are? That so is nearly every damn person on this ship? None of this is going to be easy, Taichi."  
  
He slumped. "I know. Hikari just told me."  
  
The way he said it... "You didn't know before?"  
  
"No. And I was half hoping she'd gone delusional from the stress, but if you're convinced as well..." He sighed again. "We'll be setting down in about an hour at coordinates provided by that old man. He told Hikari that the partners for the rest of us are there." Taichi's voice was steadily rising in agitation. "This is so messed up! Yamato, your involvement, everything."  
  
Sora knocked on the side of his mask, worried and amused. "The rest of it I can understand, but what did you do to piss off Yamato? There've been rumors... Did you really _buy_ him from his father?"  
  
"Uh, yeah. That part's true. Don't know what else they're saying, but I'd rather not talk about it. It's just... complicated." He shifted in his chair and quickly changed the topic. "The offer of a Halcyon helped seal the deal earlier. I'll compensate you for five times the loss of the ship. Once Shun has it, Kidou will be able to replicate the technological components."  
  
Sora waved the offer off. "The Halcyon is last decade's model. By the time Kidou's techs manage to duplicate just the waste disposal system, we'll be releasing the Gullreaper. Engine efficiency's been boosted 16% and it has some other special modifications." Her lips formed a rare smile. "Besides, a single ship is more than a fair exchange for your safety. You don't have to tell me why or how long you've been gone, not until things are more settled. It's just good to have you back, Tai."  
  
"Sora..."  
  
"I won't tell anyone about you. And I'm sticking with you while this whole Chosen thing plays out. Something is coming. Piyomon feels it."  
  
"Thank you. And I'm paying you back for the Halcyon." She could hear his grin, his always infectious grin.  
  
"You'll do nothing of the sort." Sora smiled back at him. "It'll piss Mother off more this way."  
  
"Ah. Same as ever, I see. Well, then. If you insist." He paused. "Thanks, Sora."  
  
She let her head rest on his shoulder and squeezed her arms around him in a hug, hoping he could feel it through the suit.  
  
"It's what friends are for."  
  
Slowly, he returned her embrace. "I missed you."  
  
Fighting against her emotions, she closed her eyes and pressed deeper into his sheltering arms.  
  
Not knowing all the details for now was all right, Sora decided.  
  
Taichi was back.  
  


* * *

  
  
Takeru knew the boy had been chained to the wall for more than three weeks, but he'd never seen the boy eat. Father said that the boy was being taught his place and that his punishment would not only improve his future behavior, but that of the other slaves as well. But the boy looked so young -- even younger than Takeru -- and so he wondered what the boy had done to deserve correction.  
  
It was the deepest hour of night when an all-too-alert Takeru decided to pay the slave a visit. He pushed away sheets tangled by his restless tossing and slipped on a dressing robe to keep the fortress' chill off his thin shoulders.  
  
In slippered feet, he made his way through the darkened halls, clutching a flashlight in his right hand and two ration packs in his left. The rations were from the small stash he'd ordered the head cook to provide him with after the meals served at dinner had left him hungry a few hours later. The stupid man had laughed at him and said that he was a 'growing boy,' but since he'd handed over the rations as asked, Takeru refrained from taking offense. That time, anyway. If the man laughed at him again, the fool would be in trouble. Lords, even young ones, were not to be laughed at by servants or slaves.  
  
The dimly lit halls were empty except for the regular guard patrols. Over the past weeks, whenever the guards saw him they'd stare, so Takeru stood up straighter and glared at them. Then the guards bowed and waved him on his way, but the pattern kept happening over and over again. Once they became used to his presence, they would learn not to stare. Else, he would have to teach them.  
  
When Takeru reached the anteroom where the slave was being held, he was surprised to find a guard stationed there. Why would a chained young boy need a night guard? Not wanting the man to listen to his questions, Takeru drew himself fully upright once more and ordered the man to leave until the next watch arrived.  
  
The man looked reluctant to go, but he finally murmured a "Yes, Lord Takeru," and left quickly.  
  
Takeru set the flashlight and rations on the floor and walked over to where the boy was hanging suspended on the wall. The slave was asleep, so Takeru stretched a hand up and slapped his face.  
  
"You, slave boy, wake up!"  
  
Lids slowly lifted to reveal ancient green eyes, but they rested on Takeru for only an instant and simply closed again.  
  
He back-handed the boy's other cheek.  
  
"I said, wake up! You _will_ obey your Lord, slave!"  
  
The boy's eyes opened, but his cracked lips remained pressed together firmly.  
  
"You will give me the proper respectful greeting, slave."  
  
"Good evening, Lord," the boy managed, with a paper-thin rasp.  
  
Takeru snorted. "Why are you here, slave?"  
  
"It is Lord Ishida's will. I live only by his mercy, Lord."  
  
"Spare me the obseisances. What did you _do?_"  
  
"I tripped and then Lord Yamato was kind to me and then I was punished, Lord."  
  
"Yamato?" Takeru asked carefully. No one would discuss his brother with him. Father had said his betrayal had hurt too much, so speaking of him was forbidden. It was true that Takeru hated his older brother for hurting Father, but he was curious about him, too. If this boy did not know of Father's order... "What do you know of my brother, slave?"  
  
"Your brother, Lord?" The boy's eyes struggled open wider and he looked over Takeru, his lips forming a small 'o'.  
  
"Yamato was my brother," Takeru answered, patience wearing thin. "Tell me of him."  
  
The slave's attention focused on the rations Takeru had brought. "Do you have water with you, Lord?"  
  
So, the child was smart, a bargainer. The blow to Takeru's dignity in aiding a slave to drink was an acceptable loss in exchange for information, he decided. He held the pouch up for the boy to drink and plugged one end of the straw into the tiny mouth. The slave drained the pouch swiftly, then pulled away with a nauseated expression.  
  
"Too fast," he said with a wince. "You might want to stand to the side, Lord. Just in case."  
  
Angry, Takeru tossed the empty pouch away. He'd been overly kind and now the slave was pretending to be too sick to answer his questions. It was unacceptable.  
  
"You do not have my permission to vomit! Now, tell me about Yamato."  
  
The slave looked uncomfortable, but obeyed. "What do you want to know, Lord?"  
  
Takeru paused. He wasn't sure what he wanted to know. The slave wouldn't know much. Not one as young and worthless as this. "Whatever your pitiful mind can recall. What sort of person was he?"  
  
"Lord Yamato wasn't a good Lord, but he was a good man. He didn't terrorize the slaves for amusement. The elders say he even had real friends among the slaves, until..."  
  
"Until when?"  
  
"I'm not allowed to say, Lord. It's High Lord Ishida's orders."  
  
"I am Ishida's son. You _will_ tell me. Until when?"  
  
The boy looked to the side. "Until Lord Ishida had them killed, one by one. He made it look like accidents and Lord Yamato never knew. Lord Yamato changed after that, they said. He still wouldn't hurt us, but he wasn't friendly anymore."  
  
Father kill his brother's friends? His brother, friends with slaves in the first place? "You lie. I should slit your lying throat here and now."  
  
"That is what the elders say, Lord."  
  
"Who? I want names."  
  
"I d-don't k-know, L-Lord."  
  
"A name, slave."  
  
"I --"  
  
Takeru slapped him. "A name."  
  
The boy sucked in a sob. "C-Cook. Cook knows, I th-think, Lord."  
  
"I see. Do you know why Yamato betrayed my father?"  
  
"B-Betray, Lord? Lord Yamato w-wouldn't do a thing like that."  
  
"He did." Takeru shook his head. The boy was useless. He knew nothing. The lead on the Cook could be checked tomorrow. He turned to leave.  
  
"Lord?" The boy's voice, strong, firm, fearless, called him back. "Your father couldn't control Lord Yamato. He wants an obedient puppet more than he wants a son, so if a betrayal occurred, I think you've got it backwards. I was there when he sealed the deal, selling your brother as a slave to High Lord Yagami."  
  
What did a slave boy know? He was lying, or repeating someone else's lie. Takeru sneered. "The very notion resembles your filthy self. My father loves me."  
  
Olive eyes hung dark with terrifying knowledge. If Takeru strayed too close, would the boy devour him? There were rumors of some slaves having magic. No, he was too old to believe in such nonsense, Takeru reminded himself.  
  
"He may love what you represent to him, but Lord Ishida's good favor comes with a price," the slave spoke, his voice deadly calm. "Perhaps I'm not the only one chained to the walls here, Lord."  
  
Takeru seethed. He would not show anger. It was beneath him to respond churlishly to an insult from a slave. The boy was a speck of dust beneath his boot. Takeru loved his father and Father loved him. The boy would die, and then there would be no more talk of Father keeping Takeru as a puppet.  
  
He strode out of the hall to find a different guard waiting outside the entrance. Takeru halted and gave the guard his most commanding look.  
  
"Beat him until your arm tires. If he lives, clean up the mess on the floor and resume your post."  
  
The man bowed and moved inside.  
  
Once back in his bed, Takeru found that he was exhausted. The mattress yielded comfortingly around his body and he slipped quickly into sleep as soon as the covers were snug about him. But troubled dreams plagued him all night long.  
  
In the morning, when he woke, he only recalled enough to know that the soreness in his throat was from screaming.  
  


* * *

  
  
They'd taken off without any more mishap than a brief argument over who would fly the ship. Hunter sat at the controls while the little man glowered from the navigator's seat. The loud-mouthed mercenary flapped around in the background, sometimes making himself useful, but mostly not. The amusing scene had taken Yamato's mind off matters for a moment, but since Hikari and now Sora had returned from speaking with Taichi, that small respite was over.  
  
Many thoughts were running through Yamato's head, but two held the most prominence. First, was that he was irrefutably and utterly insane for agreeing to prolong  
  
After speaking with her 'father,' Hikari had returned to the main room and requested that they all try to get some rest.  
  
The interior of _Zenpi_ was richly appointed and designed for comfort with an eye to impress. The main cabin was a large, circular room, its furniture oversized and comfortably stuffed with cushions done in black, iridescent skins. The walls were paneled in sheets of wood with even larger carved hunks of the precious material covering the bulkheads, but as pretty as the walls were, they pressed in on him and Yamato had a pounding urge to be _elsewhere_ \-- anywhere else but here.  
  
The old man was slumped in his seat, having escaped into sleep after giving the little man the coordinates to their mysterious destination. Lord Jyou sat on the largest couch with his slave girl cradled protectively in his lap. Yamato had never seen such fierce determination on the man's face before. Perhaps, in protecting her, Lord Kidou's youngest son had finally grown a spine. Yamato snorted at his whimsy. It was probably a one-time thing.  
  
Hikari, though... Standing up against Lord Shin and the rescue of Taichi itself had exhausted the brave girl more than she would admit. After Sora went in to see Taichi, Hikari had returned with a stubborn set to her shoulders and was clearly not entirely pleased about something. Now that Sora was back, he could see the younger girl debating the merits of tromping back in there to press whatever point she'd been trying to make.  
  
Yamato stood and went to her side. "I'm going to head in there to talk to him. We'll probably be a while. Unless you wanted to have another go first?"  
  
She shook her head. "No. He's too focused on you to think properly."  
  
Yamato glanced around. Sora was looking at him as if she were putting pieces of a puzzle together in her mind. The others in the room appeared oblivious to Hikari's remark.  
  
"Get some rest, then. You need it," he ordered gruffly. "You're no good to anyone if you collapse."  
  
She smiled ruefully up at him. "Take your own advice and pass it along. He's in the first room on the left."  
  
"Alas, Lady, there's no rest for the wicked." His parting comment was meant to be light, but the tang of irony was sharp in his mind moments after the words passed his lips.  
  
Hikari met his gaze levelly and held it. "I love him more than anything else in this world. You remember that, Yamato."  
  
He acknowledge the gentle threat with a nod, then made his way deeper into the ship.  
  


* * *

  
  
Taichi, Yamato discovered, was not in the room on the left. He found him instead in the master suite, the Yagami suit and mask already draped over a dressing table. Of course, Taichi was in the process of pulling up his sweat-stained shirt when Yamato walked in.  
  
"Never mind," Yamato said, turning, but not nearly fast enough to prevent himself from casting an appraising eye at Taichi's well-defined expanse of caramel skin. "It can wait."  
  
"No, stay," Taichi ordered, tugging the shirt back into place. His shoulders slumped and he appeared less sure of himself. "We have words that must be said before anything else can happen."  
  
One more look at Taichi and Yamato knew he wasn't ready for this conversation, but Taichi, perhaps sensing Yamato's desire to flee, said, "I don't want Hikari and the others dragged into our fight." Taichi left the _again_ unsaid, but tipped his chin upwards in challenge, daring Yamato to disagree.  
  
Yamato inclined his own head in acknowledgment, fighting back a snide comment and the cool chill of apprehension. He would stay in control. He gestured gracefully with one arm to the bed.  
  
"After you."  
  
The bed, a Western affair done in the same black as the main room, was wide enough to sleep five comfortably. Consequently, it was also the only seating in the room. Taichi circled around to the far side and sat down on the edge. Yamato, however, remained standing by the edge closest to the door, leaning against the wall behind him for support. In return, Taichi settled himself more comfortably against the multitude of pillows, then simply looked at Yamato for a long while.  
  
Pride made Yamato want to be the first to speak, but none of the lines he came up with were worthy of being spoken.  
  
_Bastard. I should have left you there._  
  
_You lied to me._ _I hate you._  
  
_Why didn't you tell me? How can you say you love me, when you obviously don't trust me? Why didn't you tell me the truth? Why did you play games with me?_  
  
_ After all that, I can't hate you. I should, but I don't -- I don't know why. And I hate you even more for that._  
  
He didn't know what to think or how to respond. Nothing he'd come up with was worthy, so Yamato simply returned Taichi's stare.  
  
"Thank you," Taichi said at last. "For the rescue." It was impossible for Yamato to look away from his earnest face. "I really am sorry. About everything."  
  
The man's unquestionable regret irritated Yamato, made it harder for him to remember why what had happened had been so very, very wrong. He wanted, no, _needed_ to stay angry. He forced himself to snap back a response.  
  
"'Sorry' is an easy word to say. I don't want to hear it. What you did was unforgivable. Inexcusable." He said it as much to remind himself as Taichi.  
  
"I know," Taichi said, looking down at his hands. "I would do anything to make it up to you, but I don't think there's anything I could do that would be good enough. Some things... some thing can't be forgiven."  
  
He looked up at Yamato, as if hoping Yamato would disagree. Yamato didn't.  
  
"I should thank you, too," Taichi continued, "for agreeing to stay with us until we land, to hear Gennai speak."  
  
"I promised Hikari I would, so don't be thinking I'm doing you any favors."  
  
Taichi sighed and nodded. "I know. Still. Thank you." The muscles of his jaw tensed and firmed. "I won't let anyone stop you if you want to leave after that."  
  
"How fucking magnanimous of you."  
  
More damn acquiescence from Taichi. Yamato wanted a fight, to smash that face, to strip the Lord bare and return the feelings of fear and uncertainty. The man on the bed was no leader, just a child giving up when the game became too difficult. Where was the spark? Where was the man who had vowed he loved him, who believed in him?  
  
Yamato let a sneer curl his lip. "It's a wonder you've held onto your lands all this while. Quitters don't usually survive for long."  
  
"I held you against your will before. I won't any longer!" The sharp, nearly angry outburst seemed to surprise Taichi and he quickly curled in on himself before Yamato's eyes. The young Lord pulled his knees to his chest and hid his face so that all Yamato could see of his face was the man's sweat-slicked hair. "I don't want anyone else to be hurt by my mistakes." His voice was muffled into his body and grew fainter with each word. "If you see that as weakness, as quitting... so be it."  
  
Pity. No, Yamato couldn't begin to feel pity for him now. Not now.  
  
"Your kindness is your weakness. You don't have the balls to do what needs to be done. 'A war is coming,' the old man said. 'A revolution.' If he's right, will you sit and cower in your bedroom while your people die?"  
  
"No!" Taichi stopped hiding. "I will _never_ refuse my duty. Letting you go free has nothing to do with abandoning my people."  
  
"Nothing?" Yamato asked dangerously. "I know your secret. I could tell all the world that big, bad Lord Yagami is just a little boy playing dress-up."  
  
Taichi shrugged aside the insult and the threat without a pause for consideration. "I trust you."  
  
"You shouldn't."  
  
"The choice isn't up to you." Taichi chose to smile and it made Yamato even more determined to force the point.  
  
"I've already wronged you once. You're a fool to let me go."  
  
"You thought you had no other option," Taichi answered without hesitation, his calm stare unnerving Yamato further. "The fault was entirely mine. I trust you and I wish you happiness."  
  
"Happiness," Yamato echoed.  
  
Taichi's brown eyes were soft, vulnerable. He nodded wordlessly, the motion solemn and sure.  
  
He held his silence as the weight of Taichi's repeated message sank home. The Lord wanted Yamato's happiness. What would have happened had his father sold him to someone else? Or if Yagami had refused the offer? Yamato wanted to deny it, but Taichi had saved his life. Then, Yamato had orchestrated Yagami's capture, and Taichi took the blame, _trusted_ him, wanted him _happy_. Because... because why?  
  
Yamato made a snort of disbelief, but it was directed at his own insane acceptance of the situation. Taichi's lie, the false enslavement, had broken something in him he wasn't sure could be repaired. It wasn't easy to admit, but he knew it was true. But why had Taichi even bothered? Yamato still couldn't comprehend why Taichi had acted the way he did, but, for now, the anger in him was in retreat. Without that fire keeping him strong... he was left with just an emotion that suspiciously felt like hurt.  
  
He sat down on the edge of the bed, his injured leg twinging in protest. Yamato grit his teeth and ignored the discomfort. It was time. He had to know.  
  
"Tell me why, Taichi. Explain it to me."  
  


* * *

  
  
A shiver went down Taichi's spine, part excitement, part nerves, part fear. Yamato was finally willing to listen. He knew he didn't deserve a second chance, but he prayed to all the gods who would listen that he be given just one more.  
  
"There are a lot of things I regret," he began, slowly, holding Yamato's eyes with his. "But one thing I will not apologize for is buying you from your father. He wanted you to be tortured, eventually killed. If I hadn't purchased you..." Taichi had to pause to steady himself. It was pathetic, him getting so worked up about a man who despised him (and rightly so), but Taichi had seen much in his few years as Yagami. He knew what Ishida had wanted Yamato to experience, to become. "I won't apologize for that."  
  
Yamato's eyes had no right to be so blue, so penetrating. "I don't want your apologies," he said. "I want to know why. Why, if you really had my best interests at heart, did you let me believe such a horrible lie?" A flare of renewed anger. "No, you didn't just 'let me believe,' you actively encouraged that belief! You had me hurt and humiliated to keep the illusion real."  
  
Taichi wanted to protest, but it was true. He could see Yamato was fighting with himself as well, though probably for different reasons. When the blonde man spoke again, he sounded calmer, but there was still a thread of rawness lacing his words.  
  
"How can you claim to care about me, when you made that happen?"  
  
"I had to." Yamato began to object. "No. Please, Yamato. Listen to me explain it this time. I tried to before, but you wouldn't hear it. If you're going to ask the question, at least listen to my answer. It... it had to be done."  
  
Taichi paused to see if Yamato would still try to object, but the other man held his composure and remained silent.  
  
"As Yagami, I've watched you and your father butt heads for the past few years. All the Lords noticed it. We knew it was only a matter of time before you were brought back in line or tossed out of it altogether. When I got that message sent to Yagami from your father, I knew what he wanted to have done to you. If not by me, then by someone else. To keep you safe, I had to purchase you. And . . . I know this doesn't mean anything to you, but I wanted to tell you the truth. Yet hovering over it all, tying my hands, was the chance that it was a trap. Because, even after your differences with your father, what sort of man sells his only heir off into a life of slavery? If you needed help, I wanted to help you. But I'm responsible for tens of millions of lives. I couldn't risk revealing the situation to you from the start. I had to be sure it wasn't a trick."  
  
"So keeping me unclothed, seducing me, that was all in the name of seeing if I was a scheming, evil bastard?"  
  
Taichi felt his cheeks flush with shame. "I was selfish. That was a mistake."  
  
"Yes it was." Yamato's expression held no mercy, but then he clenched a hand on his thigh and his frozen exterior started to crumble. "You used my... used my feelings... for... You manipulated me."  
  
Taichi wanted to deny it, but couldn't. "Yes."  
  
"At least you're being honest about it now," Yamato said with a sigh. His face seemed paler, tighter too, somehow, and he flopped back on the mound of pillows, his blond hair spilling like golden rivers against the black fabric. Yamato now looked as tired as Taichi felt. "How can you be so stupid_?_"  
  
Taichi, slowly, ready to reverse if Yamato's face showed any signs of disapproval, lay back as well, then shifted to face him. There was less than a body's worth of space separating them and it felt so nice, despite the circumstances, to be here with Yamato like this.  
  
"Can you be more specific on what I was stupid about? I've been an idiot over a lot of things; it's hard to narrow them down."  
  
That confession won him the hint of a smile. "I still don't get it, get _you_," Yamato admitted in return, eyes a quarter of the way closed, but still steadily watching Taichi. "Why would you risk so much for me?"  
  
"I've tried telling you before," Taichi answered carefully. They were almost at an understanding, of sorts. He didn't want to ruin it by speaking about things Yamato clearly didn't remember.  
  
"Try it again?"  
  
It would be impossible to do anything less.  
  
"We've met before, you and I, before I started wearing the Yagami suit. My father brought me on a visit to your father's fortress. While they talked, so did we. You were really upset about a slave dying or being killed... I forget which. I just remember you being upset and me comforting you. I've cared about you ever since then."  
  
Yamato closed his eyes. "I don't remember."  
  
Carefully, ever so softly, Taichi caressed Yamato's hand. "Try?" The pale man sighed and pulled his hand away, but he opened his eyes and focused on the wood panels forming the ceiling.  
  
"I really don't remember much of my youth. I have a few memories here and there, but the rest is just a blur. I think..." He shifted restlessly and a pained expression crossed his face. He suddenly looked so much younger, more like the boy Taichi had once taught to hug. "I don't think I _want_ to remember. If I forgot it, it has to be bad, right?"  
  
"Maybe so." Taichi took a moment to check with himself, so he wouldn't promise falsely. As much as he'd cherished his memory of Yamato as a boy, Taichi wanted to love him as a young man. The past could stay in the past, dimmed by the present and outshone by the future. "I won't mention it again. No matter what did or didn't happen back then, Yamato, I want to get to know you better now."  
  
Yamato's jaw tightened. "No. I can't."  
  
"Can't?"  
  
"You lied to me, stole my trust. I can't forgive you for that." Yamato looked nearly as unhappy as Taichi felt.  
  
"Can't forgive me... ever?"  
  
Yamato turned his head away from him and faced the door. Taichi wondered why the blond didn't just get up and walk away. "I'll stay long enough to hear the old man out. If he can't convince me to stick around, I'm gone."  
  
_I understand_, Taichi wanted to say. He did. He'd known this might be a consequence. He'd accepted it. But he couldn't bring himself to say it.  
  
"Thank you." Those words, too, stuck in his throat, but he forced them out. "For giving me at least that much. I can't ask for anything more."  
  
"No, you can't," Yamato said gruffly. "And as I said before, I'm not doing it for you." He started to get up off the bed, but aborted the attempt with a badly concealed grimace. He clutched at his leg. "Fuck."  
  
Taichi sat upright in alarm. "Are you hurt? Have you been hurt all this time?"  
  
"It's just a scratch," Yamato said, focusing intently on a door he made no motion to move towards.  
  
"If you were fine, you'd have left by now."  
  
"I _was_ fine," Yamato retorted irritably, "but apparently the pain killers have worn off."  
  
"Should I --"  
  
"No."  
  
Taichi swallowed. "How did it happen?" He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer and pile more guilt upon his misery, but Yamato had come to rescue him... and had been hurt. Part of being a leader, his father had taught him, was listening to the results of one's actions.  
  
Yamato looked over his shoulder and gave him a searching look, but then he rolled back. "You wouldn't understand how it happened. Drop it."  
  
Taichi sighed. _Pick your battles, son_. More advice. A bit too late. "All right. I'll drop it for now." He didn't so much need to know the specifics as he wanted to know the reason behind Yamato's strange phrasing. There wasn't much hard to understand about 'Someone attacked me.'  
  
He tried a different tack. "What type of wound is it? How bad?"  
  
"Not too bad. Stab wound to the upper thigh. Blade was about three centimeters wide and it penetrated only about four. It missed the artery and I slapped a pressure bandage on it inside the fortress."  
  
"_Only_ four? That should be deep enough to reach bone. And you've been walking around on it this whole time?"  
  
"Whoever packed that bag put in a lovely assortment of drugs. It had some heavy-duty stuff in it, but it also had some Isopril. Good shit -- moderate-relief, high-lucidity -- but it doesn't last long."  
  
"The Isopril had to have been from Sora. It's illegal in my territory. I can't chance stirring up rumors and suspicion by allowing the sale of what's chiefly a battlefield drug." He rested a hand on Yamato's shoulder, urging him to lie flat. "We should take care of your leg now. The next dose of medication you get is either going to be too weak or it'll make you groggy."  
  
"I want to stay alert," the blond gritted out.  
  
"All right," Taichi agreed, though Yamato's eyes were hazy with pain. "I can't blame you. I'll just go get Jyou and be right back."  
  
"Jyou?" Yamato tried to sit upright, but fell back.  
  
"He's dabbled in medicine since forever. Didn't you know?"  
  
"Didn't know. Still don't care. He's not touching me."  
  
"It won't be that hard to get you taken care of and he works a lot on the Kidou slaves. You know how badly they can end up. From what I hear in my intelligence reports, he's performed a few miracles."  
  
"They probably only let him work on the ones that were about to die. He just got lucky. Even spineless weaklings can have a good day."  
  
Taichi exercised his patience and kept himself from calling Yamato on his prejudice. They'd just end up fighting and neither one of them needed any more injuries.  
  
"Well," he began, knowing full well Yamato would like his next suggestion even less, "there's Koushiro."  
  
He waited.  
  
"Your short, red-headed partner in torture? Never."  
  
"Koushiro's my best friend. He helps patch up the incoming slaves and he's worked on me after a sparring match when the doc's been busy."  
  
"I don't care. I don't need anyone's shitty help. Just bring what I'll need to treat myself here. I'll take care of it." But the strength of Yamato's resolve had weakened with each sentence to the point where the blond was looking somewhat unnerved by his own order.  
  
"Adrenaline wear off along with the Isopril?" Taichi teased, more to force Yamato into accepting some sort of help than to be cruel.  
  
"I treated myself just fine when it happened, so shut up."  
  
Taichi sighed. "Sora would do it, if we asked politely enough."  
  
"No."  
  
Yamato's response had held even more finality than his refusal of Koushiro's help. Taichi would have wondered, but it wasn't the right time. "Jyou?" he tried again.  
  
It earned him a glare. "No."  
  
"Koushiro?" Taichi baited.  
  
It won him a look of disbelief that held suspicious resemblance to a furious smile. "No, idiot."  
  
Yamato tried flexing his leg, but it clearly seemed to be doing worse. He lay back, breathing harsher and forcibly even. If there had been a point in time where Yamato could've treated his wound himself, it had long since passed. He needed assistance and there really was only one person left.  
  
"Yamato?" The man's head tilting a fraction was all Taichi had to signal that Yamato was listening. "I could do it... if you'll let me."  
  
Yamato rolled his head a bit more to stare at him. His blue eyes closed slowly and stayed like that. "Fine," he answered in clipped tones. "This is your fault. You might as well fix it."  
  
"I know, Yamato. I will. I promise." Taichi forced himself to swallow. "I'll be right back."  
  


* * *

  
  
Hikari was only half-awake when she saw her brother about to enter the main room... _without_ the Yagami suit. With a surge of panic fueling her, she leapt up and barreled into him at full-speed, forcing him far down the hall and back into the office. Angrily, she slapped at the control for the door.  
  
"You _IDIOT!_" she hissed, rounding on him, almost too furious for words. She searched his face for any trace of intelligent thought remaining. Taichi looked completely drained and was accepting her pronouncement of idiocy with his brown eyes clearly expressing, 'Yeah, I know I'm a screw-up. What've I done wrong now?'  
  
He started to speak, but she covered his mouth before he could get out more than her name. She crowded up against him, forcing him against the wall, then backed away and whacked him solidly on the chest.  
  
"Is this how it always was?" she demanded, voice necessarily quiet, but still seething. "Maybe Koushiro was right. How can you be so careless?"  
  
He tried to smile for her, but it didn't turn out so well. "You know me, more hair than brains."  
  
The joke usually made her laugh, but she just felt disappointed. She looked at him sadly. "You still don't know what you've just done wrong?"  
  
He shook his head. "Hikari, you're scaring me." He rubbed at his chest. "Plus, ow."  
  
_Well, that makes two of us! What possessed you, Taichi? _  
  
She took his face between her hands, thinking maybe he'd feel the warmth of her palms and realize his mistake.  
  
"I love you, you big idiot. And I want you to be happy. But try a bit harder not to get us all killed?"  
  
At his worried, but still-blank look, she flicked him on the nose and asked in a syrupy, childish voice, "Daddy, where's your mask?"  
  
His eyes grew impossibly wide as the color drained out of his face. "It's back in the room... with Yamato," he answered, as if he couldn't believe it himself.  
  
"What were you thinking?" She was less worried and more annoyed now that he finally recognized his grave error.  
  
"I don't... maybe I'm so used to visiting him without it... and I need a med kit. That's what I was coming out for. Everything else just didn't seem to matter."  
  
"You promised me you were fine!" she cried out in quiet alarm.  
  
"I am. Hush now," he soothed, his arms coming up around her and pulling her close. Hikari pressed her face to his chest and clung so tightly it had to be hurting him -- she was savagely pleased about that -- but he didn't push her away. He just stroked her hair and whispered, "Honestly, I'm not injured. The kit's for Yamato. Somehow he got stabbed, and while he's not bleeding to death, he's in enough pain to prevent him from walking out here and getting the kit himself."  
  
"So you just brilliantly decided to get it yourself," she groused. "You're lucky I caught you in time and that no one chased after me. I'll go get it, so _stay here_." She pulled back, grateful for a task to help focus her mind and restore her composure.  
  
He tried to take the kit from her when she returned, but she held it tight. He owed her and she was still worried.  
  
"How are things going with Yamato otherwise?" she asked, and saw what little fight still in him leave.  
  
"He's agreed to listen to what, um... that old man... has to say."  
  
"Gennai," she supplied.  
  
"Right, Gennai. He might leave after that. I won't let anyone stop him."  
  
Seeing as how she'd planned on letting Yamato have that very same choice, she couldn't fairly call her brother to task for risking their exposure. But Taichi had only answered half her question.  
  
"That's, well, that's something. I meant personally, though. Do you love him?"  
  
He looked about to play the silent, over-protective big brother card, but, in the end, he nodded.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And?"  
  
Taichi bowed his head. "It's too soon to tell. I betrayed him. He doesn't trust me. And I can only blame myself for what's happened."  
  
"He cares about you," she said, thinking of how Yamato had acted when she'd found him... and how he'd acted later, when they had negotiated his assistance. "He was good to me when you weren't here. He'll come around." She mussed his hair and gave him a wink. "Women's intuition."  
  
He snorted, but there was a look of tender love on his face, love for her. "Aren't you too young to have that? I changed your diapers, you know," he said, pulling out a favored argument with a time-honored, predictable retort. She didn't let him down.  
  
"Well, if you're going to believe the stories, then you should also remember how you kept putting the diapers on backwards and mom was blaming dad for months."  
  
It didn't hurt to talk about their parents like this. Much. But they both needed it, this reminder of an infinitely simpler time. She held out the kit once more, only to stop him, their fingers entwined on the grip.  
  
"It's going to be all right, Taichi."  
  
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I really want to believe you."  
  
"So believe." She let the kit go. "Now, go on. Get him cleaned up. Gennai's going to talk to us all as a group once we land, but I'll make sure you're not disturbed until you come out."  
  
And while Taichi settled things with Yamato, Hikari would check to see who, if anybody, had noticed his unmasked appearance. She hoped her brother's luck held out a bit longer.  
  


* * *

  
  
When Taichi returned to the master suite, he was relieved to see Yamato hadn't barricaded himself in the bathroom or any other such nonsense. Instead, the blond hadn't moved much, if at all. He lay back against the pillows, eyes still closed.  
  
Taichi set the kit down on the bed. He knew Yamato wasn't asleep, but the man had yet to acknowledge Taichi's presence.  
  
"I'm back," he said softly.  
  
Blue eyes hesitantly opened before Yamato managed to school them into giving a wary stare. "Obviously." He focused on something off to the side of the room. "You're going to need to help me with these pants. The bandage bled through and everything's stuck together."  
  
Yamato was lying very, very still and he seemed calm, but Taichi could tell the display was far from the truth. It hurt that he didn't dare offer much comfort, knowing it would be easy for Yamato to misinterpret his intentions.  
  
"Do you want me to cut them off?" Taichi's offer was met by an icy glare.  
  
"Do you have some strange fetish for destroying my clothes?"  
  
"I was just thinking it would hurt less," Taichi responded mildly. "The other option is to try to peel things apart, but if the wound's stopped bleeding, it might be better not to agitate it further."  
  
Taichi opened the kit to see what he had at his disposal, giving Yamato time to make up his mind on how to proceed. Taichi was glad to see the kit had been designed with the novice user in mind and he quickly sorted out shears, an oral analgesic, a nanotech SaniPad, and a bottle of liquid stitches.  
  
"Here," Taichi said, dropping three yellow pills into Yamato's open palm. "It's Praxadol. Might as well take them now before I start. The other stuff's bound to wear off soon if it hasn't already."  
  
Yamato examined the manufacturer's mark on the drugs, then downed them dry. Berating himself for his thoughtlessness, Taichi went into the suite's adjoining bathroom and returned with some water. He set the empty glass on a nearby dresser when Yamato was finished with it.  
  
"You decide what you want to do yet?"  
  
"Do the twins have anything in here I can borrow?"  
  
Taichi took that as his cue to rummage through the suite's drawers. The third one he checked yielded a pair of pants made out of black denim. "You might need a belt, but these should do."  
  
"Fine. Cut these off me, then."  
  
Taichi helped Yamato out of his boots, then began to cut up the side of Yamato's left pant leg. As he got higher up, he went more carefully, not wanting to cut apart Yamato's undergarment... or have Yamato accuse him of damaging it on purpose. But the second layer of cloth didn't appear at Yamato's thigh, nor when Taichi went higher and reached the blond's hip. Meanwhile, Yamato's breathing got quicker, despite obvious attempts to appear calm.  
  
Taichi finished cutting through the waistband and looked in slight panic at the uninterrupted line of flesh from waist to ankle.  
  
"You're, um, not wearing anything else under there, are you," he said for the record, already knowing the answer. He was managing to keep his libido in check, but it was a near thing.  
  
"Thanks to your _friend,_ no," the man muttered. Then Yamato stared up at him, wide eyes nervous but strong behind the haze of pain. "You touch me," he said softly, "and you'll live just long enough to regret it."  
  
Taichi believed him. "I'll behave myself. I'd never want to force you. You have my word."  
  
"Like you could," Yamato snorted. "Besides, your word's not worth much in my book."  
  
Taichi caught up his hand, and waited until Yamato acquiesced to the touch. He could tell the blond wanted to pull away, but Taichi sensed something more than imperiled modesty was making Yamato remain still. "Maybe someday, my word will be worth more to you. I hope so. But for right now, let me take care of this. I know you could probably do this yourself, but it'll be easier if you accept my help. Maybe..." He needed a way to help Yamato see he wasn't powerless. "Try to think of this as me starting to work off the debt I owe you. You deserve all the help I can offer."  
  
Yamato's jaw was moving a bit, like possibly the blond was biting at the inside of his cheek. But the longer Taichi waited, the less likely it seemed that Yamato would ask for (or even demand) his help. Taichi kissed Yamato's wrist, just beside the pulse point, before releasing him.  
  
"Just smack me if you want me to stop," he offered before setting to work.  
  
The majority of the left pant-leg was indeed stuck with dried blood to Yamato's leg, but a damp hand towel, a spare straight-edge razor found in a bathroom drawer, Taichi's thankfully perfect hand-eye co-ordination, and lots of patient swabbing helped in getting the fabric peeled loose.  
  
Yamato had remained silent throughout, even during accidental tugs on his hair, which Taichi knew had to hurt. But by the time the whole flap was free, there wasn't much point in keeping up pretenses. Taichi slowly, ready to stop at the slightest protest, pulled the tattered garment off entirely. It was impossible not to admire the unobstructed view and he quickly tossed a clean hand towel over Yamato's body to restore a small degree of modesty and preserve his own sanity.  
  
The wound looked worse than it was, he determined after some focused inspection. Blood had run and dried in a wide trail down the front of Yamato's pale leg, but the puncture itself was much smaller. Taichi wasn't sure where to begin. He knew dried blood didn't come easily out of hair, even hair as sparse as Yamato's. Cleaning only near the wound and leaving the rest to itch and flake off didn't seem right, but doing the whole leg would necessitate more touching than probably either of them wanted.  
  
"Is there time for me to take a shower?" Yamato asked, looking down for the first time at the mess dried to his body.  
  
"That might be easiest," Taichi agreed in relief, but then realized, "The wound should really be taken care of first, though. You don't want it re-opening under the water spray."  
  
Yamato looked close to protesting. After a moment, he instead gave a slight nod.  
  
"I should clean a bit more around the wound before the SaniPad goes on. Let me know if I'm --" he began, stopping when he saw the futility of the suggestion. The moment reminded him too much of when he'd done this for Yamato before. And even with the change in situation, it was useless to ask Yamato to alert him if he inadvertently was causing the man pain. The blond would either yell or not make a sound, and nothing Taichi offered was likely to make a difference. "Right. I'll try to be gentle."  
  
Taichi attempted to keep his touch light, but the area directly around the stab wound was bound to be hyper-sensitive. Yamato's muscles clenched as Taichi's swabbing crossed over a sore spot. This was followed by a hissing wince and a glare.  
  
"If I hurt you, smack me or yell at me or something, but don't tense up. That'll just put more tension on the wound."  
  
"I'm starting to think you _like_ getting hit by me," Yamato muttered, rolling his eyes.  
  
Taichi pulled his hands away for a moment, not trusting himself to remain clinical. "I'd much rather deal with a minor inconvenience than have you suffer in silence," he said honestly.  
  
"If I decide to hit you, it's going to be more than a 'minor inconvenience.'"  
  
Taichi chuckled. "Promises, promises."  
  
He resumed work on Yamato's leg, applying a SaniPad to draw out any infection, and was so focused on applying the liquid stitches that he barely registered Yamato's quiet words.  
  
"Do you still think you love me?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Yamato tilted his head away. "Nothing. You've done enough with the wound. Thanks." Yamato forced himself into a sitting position with a grimace. "I'll take care of the rest. There's still enough time for me to shower, right?"  
  
Yamato wasn't ready. With an inward sigh, Taichi let his new-formed hope shatter back into pieces. He forced a smile.  
  
"Yeah, go ahead. There's supposed to be some meeting after we land, but they can just wait until we're done here. Are you okay to stand?" Taichi asked, reaching out a hand.  
  
Yamato shied away. "I'll manage."  
  
On tenterhooks, Taichi watched Yamato swing his legs over the edge of the bed and stand up. The man's steps were slow and shaky, but Taichi didn't dare approach him again without direct invitation.  
  
Unaided, Yamato made it to the bathroom door and shut it behind him. Not long after, Taichi heard the sound of running water. It figured that the twins' ship would have something as extravagant as a hydro shower, and since the ship had more than one master, Taichi hoped the water reservoir held enough for at least two uses. Even a sonic shower would help, though.  
  
While Yamato was occupied, Taichi disposed of the ruined pants and did some hunting of his own, turning up clothes that would fit him well enough.  
  
Yamato didn't take long. The door opened and Taichi couldn't keep himself from staring. The ex-Lord was mostly dry. One rich brown towel was draped around the back of his neck, while another hung firmly about his hips. He didn't appear to have any more trouble walking, probably owed to the pills kicking in, but upon seeing Taichi, Yamato paused in the doorway.  
  
Before his blatant appraisal and inappropriate approval could make Yamato uncomfortable again, Taichi turned and picked up the clothes he'd chosen to wear.  
  
"I'll let you change in privacy and be out in a bit." He nodded to the dresser drawers. "Pants are on the left, shirts are on the right."  
  
The mostly naked man cleared the doorway with graceful haste and Taichi escaped into the private sanctuary of the bathroom.  
  
According to the indicator light, there was plenty of water left and Taichi took eager advantage of the shower's automated program functions. The next fifteen minutes were filled with self-indulgent bliss. After having being trapped in the Yagami suit for so long Taichi took full opportunity to de-stress and work off the sexual tension that had been clouding his mind.  
  
He used the shower's sonic setting to dry off, then put on the clothes he'd picked out earlier. They fit well enough, though the pants were a little on the long side. The Kidou brothers all had lanky frames. He finished rolling up the cuffs and then took a stern look at himself in the fogged mirror.  
  
"You behave yourself out there, all right?" he ordered. Yamato's quiet, 'Do you still think you love me?' was running through Taichi's head on endless loop. "He's confused and vulnerable. You're not going to take advantage of him, understood?" But if Yamato still cared enough to ask, maybe, just maybe, it would be all right to give him an answer.  
  
Not sure of what he would find when he left the bathroom, Taichi purposefully bungled opening the sliding door. The resulting clatter gave ample chance for Yamato to notice his imminent entrance and object if necessary. When no protest came, Taichi opened the door fully and stepped into the bedroom.  
  
Yamato was dressed and the medkit had been repacked. The man stood at Taichi's approach and turned towards the door, avoiding Taichi's gaze.  
  
"We've landed and they're waiting for us," he said stiffly, already moving away as Taichi came up to him.  
  
Taichi reached out and caught hold of Yamato's arm, checking the man's movement.  
  
"That question you asked me," he began. Yamato froze in place, ceasing his struggle to get away. More hopeful, Taichi continued. "What I was feeling before, when I was planning on telling you the truth about Yagami? I -- still feel that way now. My feelings for you haven't changed."  
  
Yamato looked down and removed Taichi's hand. He swallowed. "All right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> June 2013 Author's Note: 
> 
> I haven't actively written for this story in years, but I've only just this week realized that what had been posted, hadn't made its way here to be archived. (I'm also fairly sure that I've written, or mostly written, the seventh chapter, but it's on a computer that likes to crash upon being turned on and I haven't had time to salvage the hard drive.)
> 
> Right now, I am toying between continuing the story, ending the story here and re-writing the whole thing as original fiction, and working on other projects I post under a different penname.
> 
> I've received some lovely messages from folks about this story -- I do still read them and I appreciate each one. This story was my first attempt at writing and it has always held a special place in my heart. I started writing this early on in my college years -- it's been more than a decade since then. I've completed graduate school, moved three times, dabbled in other fandoms, and have been working as a professional since 2006.


End file.
